


Bridging The Sky

by Dameceles



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Family Drama, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Intrigue, Lines of Succession, Politics, Post-Fire Emblem Fates: Conquest, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Power Play, Seduction, Slow Burn, Survivor Guilt, Video Game Mechanics, Worldbuilding, culture clash, ruler-advisor relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-04-29 20:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 45,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dameceles/pseuds/Dameceles
Summary: Hinoka survived the war and wrestles with guilt as much as her duties as Hoshido’s Queen. Every day is a battle despite the supposed ‘peace’ and when the chance to strike at Nohr’s heart arises, she gives into temptation. Will the cycle of suffering continue, or can it be broken?





	1. Swallowing Sundown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic will be darker than my others, so I'll start each chapter with trigger warnings.
> 
> Chapter 1 warnings: mentioned suicide, arson, vandalism, referenced character deaths, animal death, blood and gore, violent ideation, self-harm, racism, and a lot of whump.

.i.

By the time Hinoka and the remaining flights of tenma warriors had returned from the mountains the daylight was dying. The expanse of Shirasagi was bathed in light as red as blood, as if the sun had slit her throat upon witnessing the Dawn Dragon's holy city so defiled. While black plumes of smoke no longer rose, the scattered pockets of incinerated buildings could be spied even from a distance and were all the more grisly up close. When the wind blew, it carried the stench of death with it.

 _This is my fault._ She was convicted by the thought. As high princess she knew her duty was to the kingdom and its people. Yet when the hordes of invading soldiers had been upon the capital’s doorstep, Hinoka had dedicated her forces not to defending the city at large— instead she’d chosen to guard the castle’s rear entrance. At the time she’d truly believed Hoshido could survive so long as her older brother lived, yet now it was undeniable that she’d left the common folk undefended.

And even with that strategic sacrifice, Ryouma was dead.

Kamui’s messenger, a servant with peach-pink hair, had delivered the news. Ryouma was dead, but so was King Garon, thus the siege had ended. The new commander of Nohr’s army wished to parlay peace terms and her sole surviving brother swore that the offer was sincere. Hinoka had never wanted to leave in the first place, so despite Asama’s voiced doubts, they’d traveled back with all haste. No matter that it felt all too late.

She’d dismissed the majority of her forces to go throughout the city and aid those in need, so Hinoka arrived at the castle gates with just her retainers, herself, and the messenger. Those guarding the entrance were Nohrian and Hinoka had to strangle the urge through throw them out with her bare hands as they were ushered inside. Walking through the halls, she saw firsthand that her home had been treated with just as much disrespect as her subjects— antique porcelain vases laid shattered, scrolls with brushwork of the masters had been torn from the walls, floormats were upended, lanterns overturned, partitioning screens slashed, centuries-old decorative carvings had been turned into splinters only fit for the fire. Although it was obvious the Nohrian army was currently attempting to clean up, it was still a mess of their own making. To prevent herself from screaming at them Hinoka had to bite down on her lip until she tasted blood.

The damage lessened somewhat as the servant led them to the upper levels, yet when they paused on the level just below the one that contained the throne room— the place where Ryouma would’ve made his last stand —Hinoka found her feet carrying her up the stairs and away from voiced protests.

She was panting by the time she ran out into the twisting hallways that led to the throne room, and the rancid stench of old viscera hit her square in the face. Offal and bodily fluids hadn’t been left to rot but she spied the stains of it almost everywhere. The fighting had to have been fierce, had to have been to the death. Hinoka’s eyes stung and her throat felt tight, but she moved further in— until she saw it.

The bare blade of Raijinto lying on the floor, spattered in clotted blood…blood the Dragon in her recognized as her brother’s.

Hinoka fell to her knees before it. A sob ripped out of her as the tears spilled down her face. _Ryouma’s dead and it’s my fault!_ Bitterly, she wept and struggled to stop weeping, because she didn’t deserve to shed such selfish tears.

Only the sound of multiple footsteps climbing the stairs enabled her to regain the slightest hold on her fraying self-control. Hinoka breathed in and held it for several heartbeats before exhaling, the technique quieting her crying, did it again and again, until it was little more than hitched breaths. The footsteps pounded through the bloodied hall and quickly encroached upon her position. Swiping the tears from her cheeks, she glanced over her shoulder and found three Nohrian knights with the servant.

At her glance the tallest one, a blond man, made a signal with his hand, the women and other man stayed back while he walked forward.

Hinoka turned and stood at his approach, but even at her full height she had to crane her neck to look the man in the eye. He was huge, nearly two heads taller than herself, and it made her feel the size she lacked. He was covered from neck to toe in metal armor, blackened and pointed like a monster. His face cut from harsh lines and sharp angles, all utterly foreign, even the curve of his dark eyes beneath a furrowed brow.

It took her a moment to recall that she’d seen him before, in Izumo when they’d been ambushed and then forced to sup with the enemy. He’d been there, with the Nohrians who called her brother ‘Corrin’. She’d seen him even before that, although the memory was hazy, that blond head of hair and black armor— the same figure had fought Ryouma in the fields where Kamui had betrayed them.

The recognition and sense of danger without a solid identity was twisting Hinoka’s guts into knots. So she stirred the embers of anger within her heart for courage and demanded, “Who are you?”

“I am Marx, crown prince of Nohr.” he said, voice a deep rumble that went to her bones. She had to suppress a shudder. He came to a stop and loomed over her, every bit as menacing as his title. “You weren’t meant to see this room in its current state, please come with me.”

How dare this man, _this invader_ , tell Hinoka where she could go within her own home. The place he continued to violate with his unwelcome presence. The kindled anger in her heart grew hot, her hands clenching into fists.

“Why was my brother’s sacred katana left here like a piece of rubbish!?” Hinoka yelled with all the force she could muster.

Her peripheral vision caught the other Nohrians wincing, but the man before her didn’t so much as flinch. His expression was like stone and the tone of his voice was the same rumble as before. “Our apologies, High Princess. While we were able to move King Ryouma’s body, the sword shocked anyone who tried to touch it. We were forced to leave it where it fell.”

 _As it should reject filthy Nohrians._ She almost smiled at the vindictive thought. Yet the feeling dimmed when Hinoka glanced behind her to where Raijinto laid, its blade still bright despite the blood crusted upon it. If she hadn’t run Ryouma’s blood might never have spilled, never would’ve sullied the blade that’d chosen him as its wielder. Maybe if she’d died instead, he would’ve survived. No matter how angry Prince Marx made her, it was a wane thing compared to the weight of her own guilt.

Hinoka was unable to look away from the evidence of her failure. _It’s my fault he’s gone._ She had to clean the blood off.

Turning, she said, “I’ll handle this problem.”

“Wait-”

The moment his command was uttered she reached down and grabbed the katana’s hilt. It didn’t feel the same as a naginata, but her fingers curled around the grip and she was able to lift it. Yet this was a weapon of the gods, Hinoka sensed its divine power humming through the contact of her hands and down her arm to the rest of her body. It spidered along her nerves and spine, as though curious, raising every hair on the back of her neck. Abruptly a small spark of electricity ran from the tip of the blade down, and Hinoka felt it dance harmlessly across her palms. It’d caused the flecks of dried blood to crumble like dust and she reverently brushed it from the blade with her gloved fingertips.

With the katana finally restored to its proper glory, she glanced about for its sheath— but went tense when a cold metal touched her shoulder. Shrugging it off her, Hinoka whirled around and found Prince Marx watching her. There was more interest shining in his dark eyes than had been present during the rest of this encounter. Although it unsettled her, she held her ground rather than stepping back.

“Hoshido’s other Holy Weapon will need to be collected from its resting site at the Wall of Susanoo.” Hinoka tensed further at the reminder of where Takumi fell in battle, but the Nohrian proceeded heedlessly on. “However, the priority is formally ending this war with a peace treaty. Princess Hinoka, I’ll escort you to where the others are waiting.”

He held out his gauntleted hand, the same one he’d touched her with earlier, and she had to keep from staring at the clawed fingertips like a scorpion ready to sting. Prince Marx only told Hinoka facts: the war was over; Hoshido was at Nohr’s mercy; her brothers were dead. Kamui’s own messenger had told her the same and she’d returned to Shirasagi knowing, yet coming from this man it felt like insults. Her anger blazed, pounded in her veins like the beat of a temple drum.

“Lead the way,” she said through gritted teeth but managed not to hiss.

Prince Marx looked at her for a long, uncomfortable moment, then dropped his hand and turned to face the other Nohrians still lingering in the hall. Although he was encased in armor he’d left himself vulnerable by showing his back, so confident in his power. Different attacks where she could take advantage flitted through Hinoka’s mind—

**_cut him down_ **

—yes, that was what she should do. Avenge her family, the suffering of her kingdom. She’d failed to act before, it was only right to strike now.

Hinoka shifted onto the balls of her feet and tightened her grip on the hilt. Her legs bunched in preparation to jump, so she could reach his neck when her arms swung out. The hum of the katana’s power suddenly sparked again, but this time Hinoka felt the pain of it fully.

.ii.

“Big S-Sister, you’re a-awake!”

Hinoka was lying down, a cushion pillowing her head. Each intake of breath brought the bitter smell of medicinal herbs with it. She blinked, half-open eyes focusing on the roof of Shirasagi castle’s clinic.

She tried to turn her head towards the voice, but instantly regretted it and instead stayed still. “…Sakura, what?”

“P-prince Marx c-carried you to m-me. He s-said you grabbed R-Raijinto and refused to l-let go of it.” Sakura stutter was very pronounced, it only got that way when she was feeling frantic. “The k-katana shocked strongly e-enough to make you f-faint!”

Now that her sister mentioned it, Hinoka couldn’t recall how she’d gotten here. Her memories shortly after picking up the katana were hazy. Electrocution might explain her full-body ache. Glancing from the corner of her eye, she asked, “…you were able to hold it?”

“N-not for l-long, I m-mean… He p-pried your f-fingers open, while I-I… I’ve not h-held a s-sword before, Ican’tbeRaijinto’swielder!” Sakura finished in a rush.

It was true, Hinoka had only ever seen Sakura training with festals or spell tags or a bow and arrow. Just like how she’d concentrated on the weapons standard for warriors with flying mounts. Neither of them had learned how to use a katana, as princesses neither of them had been expected to use one. Raijinto had chosen Ryouma. It had just rejected Hinoka.

Her gaze fell then, from her little sister’s face down to the hand she was holding. Her own gloveless hand, palm and fingers wrapped so thickly with bandages she almost didn’t recognize it. Part of Hinoka was disturbed by the fact she hadn’t noticed before, nearly refused to register the fact that she didn’t feel the bandages that she so clearly saw.

“I-I was so w-worried that you had d-d-d-” Sakura’s voice hitched, then she hid her face in her hands as her words broke into sobs. “Please d-don’t leave me a-alone, Big Sister!”

Sakura began to cry in earnest, shoulders shaking with the intensity of it. Hinoka tried to squeeze her hand, thought there was movement even if her sense of touch was numb, but it did little to console her sister. Her throat felt tight again, but she struggled to untie her tongue and say something worthwhile.

Hinoka almost confessed that this was her fault. Almost confessed that she’d let the hope of seeing Sakura again override her training as a warrior. Almost confessed that she’d assumed Sakura had fallen against that initial wave and had so easily believed her gentle little sister had died first and farthest from home. Almost confessed that she hadn’t made herself sick with worry over Sakura or Takumi until they’d both been purposefully put in harm’s way. Almost confessed that at the start of the invasion she’d argued with Yukimura to let _her_ be the first line of defense but had relented when Ryouma had asked her to stay close. Almost confessed that she regretted ever trusting Kamui to keep Ryouma safe, regretted that he’d ever come home when it’d led to this.

 _Don’t make this all about you. Don’t be selfish._ Closing her eyes, Hinoka swallowed it all down and swore not to let Sakura’s fears come to pass.

.iii.

Hinoka looked to the sunset skies above and found the expanse of it a gloomy dusk smothered by overcast weather. Cloud cover prevented her from seeing any hints of the moon, stars, or unfamiliar constellations that must’ve hung over this western kingdom. Still as she took a deep breath, she found the air so much clearer than the muggy, perfumed stuffiness that had been inside Krackenburg castle’s stone walls. The open courtyard was also mostly empty, thus quiet, which seemed to be helping Sakura’s nerves.

Glancing over, Hinoka spied her sister’s head tilted towards the earth under their shoes. Her fingers fretted restlessly with the edge of her sleeves, something Sakura had been doing since they’d arrived at the city of Windmire. Nervous, perhaps because of how deep they were in enemy territory with only four other Hoshidans besides themselves— even easier targets than their father had been in Cheve with an entire entourage.

They’d had to travel light though. Proper servants and guardsmen required lodgings to rest, thus bigger groups almost always multiple travel time. Yukimura had refused any itinerary that had them remaining in Nohr a moment longer than was strictly necessary. The tactician likely would’ve avoided sending the surviving princesses altogether, if it hadn’t been too much of an insult to decline attending after being issued an invitation by the then Crown Prince himself. Hoshido was in a perilous position as it was, so Hinoka refused to let anyone’s pride damn them further.

Despite Hinoka’s choice and resolve, it’d been a battle of its own, keeping up a smiling façade for any and every Nohrian who’d looked their way. Yet it was unavoidable, they were what remained of the Byakuya bloodline thus had to act as their kingdom’s representatives. Throughout the coronation for the new king of Nohr, she had spoken honestly yet behaved beyond reproach. All because she had to be strong. Sakura needed her, even if Kamui didn't. And there was no one else left to lead Hoshido. Hinoka would keep the smile on her face even if it _killed_ her.

“High Princess Hinoka, Princess Sakura.” That deep voice was unmistakable.

Rather than grimacing, Hinoka curved her lips into a smile as she turned towards the tall, blond man in Nohr’s royal regalia of purple and gold. Tone carefully light, she called back, “King Marx, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

At the sight of him, Sakura flinched. After murmuring an excuse her younger sister fairly fled to the other side of the courtyard where their retainers were awaiting their mounts. Hinoka didn’t blame her, recently Sakura’s sleep was troubled by nightmares of being captured at Fort Jinya and the merciless execution of her soldiers. The man approaching them had commanded those forces and given his word to spare the lives of the surrendered, but it had proved false.

Hinoka however, stood her ground as he approached. Her pulse quickened, she had to work at keeping her breathing even and smile in place. While the Nohrian had just given a speech on how they were no longer enemies, her body hadn’t forgotten the terror she'd felt waiting to defend Shirasagi castle against an entire army. Yet he’d also bowed his crowned head and apologized for Nohr’s crimes, his crimes… such sincerity made it hard to entirely hate him.

King Marx came to a stop before her, looming as hugely as she remembered despite being in formal clothing rather than a set of armor. The jewel of his crown rolled and glittered against his forehead in the scattered torchlight. Distracting as the stone’s color was blood red.

He’d caught her inattention, as he cleared his throat to regain it before he said, “I’d hoped to see you off. Although it is a pity you cannot stay for the banquet, High Princess Hinoka.”

“It was kind of you to invite us, but Hoshido needs us back quickly as there’s much to rebuild,” Hinoka replied, making sure that her smile stayed in place. There was little chance she’d be able to stomach sitting amongst her kingdom’s conquerors and feasting to her people’s defeat. Especially when most of that food had been given over to Nohr as part of the war reparations.

The line of his mouth thinned over her reminder, but otherwise his expression remained the same. With an even tone he said, “Yes… My apologies that your own coronation had to be delayed because of the damage our army caused in Shirasagi. Please let me know if more of my forces are needed to aid in the reconstruction.”

Anger flashed through Hinoka, but she ruthlessly tamped it down. Nohrian troops and commanders had remained within Shirasagi, despite the wording of the peace treaty promising Hoshido its sovereignty. Prince Leo had assured her that it was only temporary, a stabilizing force while the ruling structure and military was put back together. Yet Yukimaru had reminded her that a Nohrian’s word meant _little_ and had warned that such an unwelcome presence could easily become permanent and her kingdom become yet another of Nohr’s tributaries. It was a threat that hung over her neck even as the feudal lords squabbled and scrambled over what they saw as a power vacuum— Hinoka was an unwed woman and there were very few reining queens in their long history.

Mercifully, before the conversation could be drawn out further the Nohrian stablehands finally made their appearance, leading three saddled and hooded Golden Kites into the courtyard. King Marx’s brow furrowed further at the sight, then he turned to her with questioning eyes. While Hinoka met his gaze, she kept her silence— if he wanted answers, he’d have to ask.

After a moment of charged quiet, Marx did just that. “Pardon my asking, but where is your tenma?”

“She’s dead. Couldn’t survive the wounds your sister’s wyvern inflicted.”

Although trained for war, the tenma hadn’t stood a chance when the fanged maw and talons of the great black wyvern had caught hold of her soft underbelly. Before the blood had even dried upon the ground, the Nohrian First Princess had put the edge of an axe to Hinoka’s throat and then called her obedience beautiful. Hinoka recalled how the double insult of it had made her turn red with rage. Princess Camilla had worn that same mocking smile today, saying Hinoka would make for a beautiful queen— yes, all of Nohr must assume she would make for the most obedient of puppets. _I fled and left Ryouma to die. Why would they think otherwise?_

“My condole-”

“Don’t,” Hinoka cut him off without thought, throat shamefully tight at the hint of sympathy. “As a future queen, I must mourn Hoshido’s losses rather than my own.”

Surprisingly, King Marx didn’t appear offended by her discourtesy, instead he nodded and kept his peace. It struck her that he might be the long-suffering sort, accustomed to weathering discomfort rather than immediately setting to rectify it. Part of her couldn’t help but hope Yukimura might have advice on how to use that for Hoshido’s benefit, she’d keep the advantage in mind for the future.

“The flight will be long, so best we leave now. Thank you for the hospitality, King Marx.” She tilted her head enough to be acknowledgement without the depth to be submission. If Hinoka was to rule he had to see her as an equal, so never again could she bow to him.

King Marx returned the head tilt, then said, “The offer you gave to Corrin… Please know that Hoshido’s royal family is always welcome here at Krackenburg castle.”

Once finished speaking, he lifted his arm and extended his hand. Unlike all those weeks ago in Shirasagi castle, Hinoka accepted the offer. Putting her hand in his larger one she concentrated on gripping, feeling only a phantom sensation of the pressure. They shook hands in Nohrian fashion, and King Marx seemed pleased by the gesture— his mouth softening into a small smile that put her facsimile to shame. It was strange to think she’d caused someone any measure of happiness, let alone this intimidating man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this with the [the Japanese script Anya route ending](https://youtu.be/w_Md32oh7WA?t=32m2s) in mind. Mostly small differences from the official English localization, but phrases like “lift your head" made a big impression on me with how Marx and Hinoka’s talk went. Although Hin herself is in a bad place and is very much a biased POV along with unreliable narrator.
> 
> I’m using localized place names but mostly Japanese script character names for this fic. I also vastly prefer the class name Golden Kite Warrior to Kinshi Knight, because [Kite is a species of bird](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kite_\(bird\)) while with Kinshi the closest to an actual word I can think of is Shinshi, which’re guardian beasts who serve kami… a bit of an ego trip for mortals to say they’re riding around on.
> 
> I’ve had a lot of post-Conquest ideas rolling around my head, and while [IAWG is still my main FE14 project](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370321/chapters/9918734), this will make for a good darker aside when I’m feeling blocked. You can thank FE Heroes’ kite!Hinoka for giving me the motivation to scrape together a plot for all these ideas. While I don’t want to give away everything that’ll be happening in this fic, I will say that dangling plot threads and game mechanic will be explored. Also while Hinoka/Marx is the main focus, there will be lots of side ships and even past relationships.
> 
> Readers please share your thoughts in the comments, I want to know!


	2. Stars Burning Underwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of Hoshido mourns the losses of war and Hinoka struggles to keep her head above water.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 warnings: grieving, mentioned treason, legal punishment, referenced character deaths, nerve damage, religious differences, depressive moods, insomnia, suicidal ideation, and more whump.

.iv.

One morning there was an unexpected visitor to the castle. They’d arrived with a contingent of retainers from Igasato, shinobi who’d come to replace those serving at the castle who’d fallen during the war. Hinoka had been unable to formally greet them, as that would’ve caused too much attention for agents whose strength was anonymity, but she’d risen early enough to watch their arrival from a low-story window.

Most had been strangers too her eyes, despite every one of them having sworn blood oaths to give their lives for her family’s sake. However out of the crowd, two individuals had caught her attention: A small man with dark hair gathered in a topknot and narrow eyes had struck her with a resemblance to the kunoichi who’d served Mikoto and then her older brother. The other, a woman whose form and face were beautiful despite her approaching the autumn of life, and most notably her hair-color— green, a color she had seen only on one other Hoshidan.

Hinoka hadn’t been able to linger long though, with a fully scheduled day, and soon forgot the two as she attended meetings with the councils and went about her duties.

After she’d finished the midday meal, however, Yukimura surprised her with an unscheduled audience, one where it was just the two of them and a visitor— the peculiar woman from Igasato.

“My liege, this unworthy one is honored to be permitted in your presence,” the green-haired beauty said as she bowed low enough to press her forehead against the floorboards.

Not knowing how to respond to such blatant self-depreciation, Hinoka motioned for her to rise from the bow and then looked to her Adviser for an explanation.

“This is Miyokichi,” Yukimura spoke with a dour seriousness that he usually reserved for less tasteful matters. “The Saizou clan sent her here for judgement.”

Hinoka parroted, “Judgement?”

Yukimura nodded solemnly. “Miyokichi was the wife of Saizou IV, mother of his twin sons. With Suzukaze’s betrayal, Saizou V’s death and lack of children, that branch of the line has ended. Thus the clan has called upon you to decide what should be done to this widow with no family.”

Treason, the clan must’ve feared their family’s honor to be tarnished by the association. The Saizous had served her family for generations, bound by a complicated web of oaths, blood-debt, and friendship. Now that she would ascend the throne as queen, Hinoka would be the one they served and considered the foremost authority. The word of Hoshido’s ruler meant more to them than any law, and their way of life stood so completely outside the bushido that she felt a bit nervous knowing they’d be shadowing her for the rest of her days.

They’d sent this woman to her for judgement. Maybe because they thought she’d want it, to punish the remaining family of a traitor beyond her reach. Or perhaps as a test to see whether she was full of mercy or full of wrath. The woman hadn’t even glanced upward, instead staring at the floor before her, looking more like a prisoner awaiting execution than a subject pleading their case. Everything about the situation filled Hinoka with pity. _It’s not her fault one son died young while the other lacked honor._

Clearing the lump from her throat, she spoke in an authoritative tone. “I am in need of a handmaid. Miyokichi, I assign that role to you. Serve me well and all honor will be restored.”

Once again, the woman bowed low enough to touch her head to the ground, green hair spilling over her shoulders. “My thanks, High Princess Hinoka. May you live a thousand years.”

After Miyokichi had been handed over to the head housekeeper, she’d unceremoniously dumped the rest of the meetings onto Yukimura and retrieved her golden kite. Hinoka had flown out until she’d found some roving Faceless and dispatched them— inelegantly. The golden kite moved completely differently compared to the smooth glide of a tenma, which had thrown off Hinoka’s aim with her naginata. It’d meant the monsters had actually managed to land a swipe or two on herself, which the royal advisor had spied immediately when she’d eventually returned to the castle. He’d badgered her until she’d gone to the castle’s clinic with him.

So Hinoka sat as one of the healer’s apprentices dabbed poultices on her injuries then bandaged them up. Festals were in high demand nowadays, so she’d requested the old-fashioned treatment in order to save the castle’s stock for emergencies. Yukimura was seated across from her, spectacled eyes watching while a frown tugged at his mouth. She knew her impromptu monster hunt had been reckless, especially going out alone.

Tying off the last of the bandages, the apprentice asked, “Does anything else hurt, Your Eminence?”

Hinoka shook her head. “No, thank you. You’re dismissed to make your report to the head physician, I’d like to speak to my Adviser privately.”

The girl bowed then left the clinic. Hinoka found her eyes wandering everywhere but the man across from her, the silence between them thick enough to cut with a knife. It caused her to jump when Yukimura reached out and grabbed her wrists. She didn’t protest as he turned her hands so that the palms faced upwards.

“Is it true that these,” He trailed his fingers down the forking scars that covered her palms and the undersides of her fingers, she saw but didn’t feel his touch. “Don’t cause you pain?”

“Yes, they don’t hurt. I can’t feel much there anymore.” Hinoka sighed.

Yukimura closed his eyes as if pained but had a sad smile when he opened them again. “…your brother’s hands looked much like this, though the scars had faded with time.”

Forking pale-pink lines, like stilled bolts of lightning. Ryouma's hands had been scarred just as hers were now. “I remember. Didn’t he get them around the same time Kamui was kidnapped?”

He nodded. “It happened in Cheve after King Sumeragi, may his memory ever linger, was ambushed and slain. High Prince Ryouma was a child at the time, but he understood the wrongness of what’d happened. He’d tried to take up Raijinto and avenge your father, but the sacred katana shocked him… perhaps it understood that such a fight would’ve merely ended in his death, thus refused. It’s said Raijinto is a discerning blade, able to cut through any armor yet gentle enough that a flower petal would pass from its edge intact.”

Hinoka frowned. Was Yukimura trying to imply that she’d done something the katana had needed to save her from? She couldn’t remember trying anything foolish— but then again, her memories of that terrible day were far from clear.

“Did Ryouma also have trouble with his sense of touch?” She asked.

Yukimura gave a sigh of his own and finally let go as he sat back. “Somewhat. It was more that his hands shook which interfered with finer control. He needed years practicing with the brush to write legibly again.”

 _Well, I guess I can be glad that’s not a problem._ Hinoka flexed her fingers, seeing the movement without feeling it, trying to feel grateful. Instead she just felt hollow, like important pieces of her had been stolen away. Her voice broke as she said, “Yukimura, I miss him. I miss…” _Takumi, Orochi, Mikoto, and too many others._

“I do too, Hinoka. All of Hoshido mourns with you.” He clasped his hands to hers again, this time for comfort. Hinoka wished she could’ve felt it.

.v.

After Mikoto had died they’d only been able to hold a small mourning ceremony, since at the time all of them had been needed to lead their soldiers in beating back Nohrian armies. Following the peace treaties, the public funeral held in Shirasagi had been for both the queen regent and the princes. It had seemed like all of Hoshido noble and commoner alike had attended to mourn, filling the streets so completely that no paving stone could be seen. As they’d followed the priests and coffins to the Byakuya family tombs grief had hung over Sakura like a cloak and Hinoka too had been unable to hold back her tears. It’d been a day full of sadness, but it’d been cathartic knowing they weren’t alone.

That’d happened months ago, before they’d flown to attend the coronation in Nohr, yet the citizens continued to leave cut flowers upon the shattered remains of the city square. It was a detail Prince Leo questioned them about as they walked through the city, discussing the resources needed for repairs. Resentment bubbled up in Hinoka’s chest as she explained the offerings, silently seething at how his expression remained calm and collected despite the deaths being mourned having been ended by Nohrian hands.

This prince was younger and less severe than the Nohr’s king, and some might even call him more handsome. It put her guard up doubly— for some of the most poisonous creatures drew the eye with bright colors. Still, Prince Leo did gain a sort of boyish charm when his eyes lit up with curiosity. Even subtly cocking his head to the side like a puppy as he asked, “Why don’t you replace what’d been here with a monument dedicated to the memory of those lost?”

“A monument is a good idea,” she admitted. The family tomb was located outside the city, which made it difficult for Hinoka to visit and tend her brother’s headstones. The idea of something closer where everyone could burn incense in their memory tugged at her heartstrings. Where it could be built was its own problem however. Hinoka gave a hard exhale, “But it’ll have to be put somewhere else.”

At his confused frown, Sakura explained, “The st-statue at the center of the square was the Dawn Dragon c-carved from alabaster sanct-sanctified by Hotoke h-himself. It’s been a pil-pilgrimage site for h-hundreds of years, so it’d be b-better to try and re-restore it.”

Prince Leo looked to the broken remains again, expression thoughtful. “We have a similar statue in Windmire, the Dusk Dragon made from obsidian and erected by our First Queen to offer sacrifices before. Although these days the area around it is used as training grounds.”

“T-that’s…” Sakura looked mildly horrified, and Hinoka also found herself hiding a frown at the sacrilegious disrespect. She’d heard many times that the west was full of godless heathens, but to see firsthand the disregard for both the sanctity of life and hallowedness of the divine had her wondering how a disaster hadn’t befallen them. _Maybe it’s yet to come._

Repressing a shudder, Hinoka put a smile on her face and turned the conversation back to Windmire’s quarries, inquiring the types of stone that could be purchased.

.vi.

It was yet another night where slumber refused to embrace Hinoka. Not kept up by bad dreams like for her sister, but restless in mind. Since she’d begun to understand the full scope of her responsibilities as queen it’d felt like she truly hadn't time for much else— even sleep. After hours of lying still, Hinoka gave into longing and dropped by the dojo. It was the darkest of nights, when the moon hid itself away, so she'd managed to sneak past the guards standing outside her room. Unnoticed, she ghosted through the dojo’s halls alone, and that's how she discovered that Sakura was beginning to train for the sword.

Inside one of the smaller rooms lit by a few paper lanterns, her younger sister held a bamboo sword and was it swinging alongside her retainer, Kazahana.

She remembered how Ryouma practicing was more like watching a dance. He held katanas with such smooth grace that it turned every movement into an artform. It was a rather marvelous thing to admire, if one forgot how the kata were meant to spill blood. Watching Kazahana’s form now, Hinoka could tell it wasn't the same. She was graceful, yes, but her swordplay was less like a dance and more like a performance. Sweeping flourishes, wide swings, and what even seemed like a playful look on her face made her appear eager to make a lasting impression. But Kazahana was also young, closer to Sakura's age than Hinoka's, and as Lord Tsukahara's only child she'd bucked the expectations of a nobleborn daughter to fulfill the duties of a son.

Sakura had neither of their grace, and at times her arms shook as she hefted the bamboo sword aloft. Yet her sister's expression was determined and her eyes looked free from the haunted shadows that Hinoka sometimes spied in the light of day. When Kazahana said something that caused Sakura to pause and break out into a radiant smile, she backed away from the doorway and left as silently as she'd arrived.

Hinoka didn't begrudge her sister this pass-time. Sakura had been charged with making arrangements for the upcoming coronation; Yukimura had invited all of Hoshido's feudal lords and their vassals to be present to pledge their allegiance and explain their grievances. The event was to be grand and overwhelming, the first show that power remained in the capital. Having to arrange everything and ensure that noble families with bad blood didn’t renew their feuds was not a task to be envied.

Politics, treating people like pieces to move on a game board, that's what this mess was. The very sort of thing she'd ignored most of her life by instead focusing on her training as a tenma warrior. She'd hardly spared a thought for what would otherwise be her responsibilities as a daughter of the royal family— and Mikoto had let her neglect them. Now Hinoka struggled daily to appear competent, when she was truly just making it up as she went.

While she could lead on the battlefield, she hadn't been taught to how to act as a princess let alone _rule_. And she was soon to be crowned as queen. _It's a poor jest! It shouldn't be me, I don't deserve the crown._

That truth made her heart feel hollow, thoughts blurring into self-recriminations as Hinoka wandered through the night-dark grounds. There was the call of crickets, frogs, and night birds but no wind stirred the leaves of the sculpted shrubbery and trees. Although dark, the walk was peaceful and with each step Hinoka felt her mind quieting to match her surroundings. Only when her feet took her into the archery range did she find herself overwhelmed by memories: A knee-height Takumi struggling to draw the string of their father’s bow. Him at hip’s height winning his first archery contest. Takumi standing taller than herself as he showed Sakura the proper technique for aiming. _He’ll never step foot in here again._ Hinoka’s chest grew tight and she left swiftly.

Controlling her breathing she walked to an inner courtyard, to the garden Sumeragi had gifted to her birth mother, Ikona, upon their marriage which she had then planted and tended for a time. It was small compared to the rest of the castle grounds but diverse in its ground plants, flowers, and contained a deep pond. She’d always found this place beautiful, and for some reason standing by the pond helped soothed her.

Despite the lack of moon tonight something glinted in the water, possibly the starlight reflected off a carp’s bright scales. It had Hinoka remembering the time Takumi had fallen into the pond. He'd been very young then and had wanted to see the big white and red carp that was rumored to be over a century old. The water lilies made it difficult to watch some of the shyer fish from shore, so he'd climbed up into a nearby red maple tree and then a branch had broken under his weight when he'd been over the water. Ryouma had been the one to jump in and bring their brother out, shaken and soggy but no worse for wear. After Takumi had changed clothes and dried off, Orochi had accompanied him back to the pond and showed him the trick of luring the carp into the open by throwing bits of shredded vegetables onto the water’s surface.

It’d been one of the first lessons where Takumi had learned to think of alternate methods to achieve his goals, and he’d picked up the habit quickly. Her younger brother growing into a clever strategist had seemed so natural. _Yet I’m here and he’s gone. We sent Takumi out into danger and it took him in the end._

Hinoka had to blink tears away, the chasm in her heart widening with each passing moment. She stared into the water, full of regret. If only she’d been strong enough, maybe she could’ve done something—

**_go under the water_ **

—yes, she should drown herself. Perhaps then she’d see her brothers, her step-mother, and her father again before they were born into their next lives. Her body obeyed the command, walking into the pond despite the chill of its water prickling like needles.

“High Princess, stop!”

The water was up to her shoulders when she heard the voice, but Hinoka's foggy mind paid neither thing any heed, and her body kept walking further in. When it lapped at her chin, a pair of hands grabbed and hefted her out. The air was knocked from her as she abruptly landed against the mossy rocks on her behind.

Pain jolted through her, clearing the fog. Startled over the sudden, soggy state of her robes, Hinoka shivered and looked up at the man in ninja garb standing half-submerged in the fish pond. Her teeth chattered as she demanded, “Wh-who’re y-you?”

“I am Kou of the Okazaki clan.” He bowed low enough that his face skimmed the water. “Please, High Princess Hinoka, do not leave us yet. I know it is difficult, but Hoshido _needs_ you.”

 _What’s he talking about?_ Hinoka tried to recall what she’d been doing, remembered being unable to sleep and taking a walk instead… but how she’d arrived here at the pond was a blank. With how soaked she was she’d had to have gone into the pond, but why would she do that? Panic began to buzz inside her, because she couldn’t remember.

Abruptly, Kou’s bent form crumpled as a series of coughs rocked him. Hinoka snapped herself out of her daze and ordered him to stop bowing and leave the water, both which he did without protest. She stood and they both shivered in the night air like a pair of miserable cats, so she ordered Kou to escort her back to her rooms, which he again did without protest. Finally she dismissed him for the night, hoping he’d get out of those wet clothes.

Despite the late hour Miyokichi was awake and received Hinoka in her rooms, helping her to quickly change into a new set of robes. The woman suggested she should go to the baths and with how she shivered, she should’ve gone and warmed herself with a soak. Yet Hinoka couldn’t bring herself to get in water a second time that night, so chose to simply return to her futon and forced herself to lie under the blankets until the rays of dawn filled turned the sky pink. It was her own fault that she had to attend that day’s duties while sniffling and sneezing, with both Yukimura and Sakura sending concerned looks her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was always bothered how Kaze and Silas’ defections were never really treated seriously. They both mention their families in supports, so how can they blithely ignore the consequences breaking loyalties would bring them? The first scene is me trying to address this a bit, with a side of ninja clan politics mixed in. Also I’m sure you can tell just how highly I think of that Mikoto statue from the Birthright epilogue.
> 
> The OCs I used in this chapter are recycled from other FE14 works of mine. Miyokichi was first featured in [A Spoonful of Sugar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14167149), and Kou was mentioned in [Lily White Shall Delight](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6158659) by his sister Kagerou.
> 
> For all the shippers here for Hinoka/Marx, don't worry he'll show up again next chapter and onwards.


	3. Dreaming Mortals and Gods Alike

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka has three conversations with three very different men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 warnings: patriarchal power imbalances, self-depreciative thoughts, mentions of sickness and medical treatment, flashbacks, imprisonment and restraint, referenced character death, general discomfort, stereotypes and racism, invasion of personal space, allusions to rape, fears of sexual assault, period typical heteronormativity.

.vii.

Many stalls in the Sky Warriors’ stables were empty because of the war, mounts having fallen alongside their riders. When the request to purchase new tenma crossed her desk, Hinoka decided the approval required her personal attendance. Although Yukimura had raised a skeptical eyebrow he hadn’t objected, and so Hinoka had spent a pleasant day visiting the ranches, inspecting their animals, and haggling prices. Her old flightmate and fellow temna warrior, Tsubaki, had accompanied her alongside Setsuna for the day as he’d been overseeing Shirasagi’s stables.

Convenient, since it meant they could have a moment alone during the journey back. Directing her golden kite in close to Setsuna's bird and his tenma, she motioned for them to stop near a bend in the river so the birds might take a break. After they’d landed and she tasked her retainer with watering their mounts, Hinoka took Tsubaki aside.

Out of all the royal retainers, Hinoka had known Tsubaki longest. They’d apprenticed together under the same instructor when she’d joined the tenma warriors, and although they’d interacted less as they’d gotten older and he’d become Sakura’s retainer, she still trusted him. And as he stood beside her, Hinoka couldn’t help but notice how well he’d grown up. _He’s always been handsome._

Fighting down a blush at that last errant thought, she said, "Tsubaki, I wanted to discuss something with you."

"Of course, Your Eminence, I'm at your full disposal." His bow was as neat and precise as the rest of him.

"As you well know many of Hoshido’s riders fell in battle, including superior officers like General Yuugiri, and we haven’t recovered our numbers."

Unlike Nohr and its mounted knights, warriors able to ride weren’t revered in Hoshido, if anything there was ugly talk of how only cowards learned so they might run from battle faster. Although tenma and golden kites had long been used by scouts and messengers, but their numbers had been small until individuals like Yuugiri and herself made it fashionable for noblewomen to join the ranks. The attempts to recruit following the recent losses, however, more resembled times before. It saddened her that the division she’d come to love had been brought so low, but firmly believed good leadership would help their rebuilding.

With that in mind, she continued, "I'd like to appoint you, Tsubaki, as the Flightleader for all of Hoshido's Sky Warriors. But I know the Gozen clan has been asking after you, so I won't force you into a compromising position."

His gaze fell to the side, expression pensive. However, he didn’t think for long, looking back and replying, "I'm honored that you'd choose me and will happily accept this appointment. My family is not the only one figuring out their place in this new Hoshido, so if I can act as a pillar of support everyone will be more at ease."

A genuine smile curved her lips. "Thank you, Tsubaki. It's truly a relief knowing I can trust you with our comrades’ well-being."

He returned the smile, although it was wane compared to the dazzling one she remembered from years past. "I shall endeavor to look after both you and Princess Sakura as well. And as such, I ask that any plans on appointing Lady Kazahana as a general in the armies might be delayed for a time."

"I did have the thought to given her command over rebuilding the swordsmen divisions. But why wait?"

His smile dimmed into that pensive expression, and he was quiet a long while before responding, "...your sister hopes to travel away from Shirasagi and throughout rural Hoshido to personally oversee reconstruction efforts. Lady Kazahana had planned to accompany her, and it'd be more easily done while she remains a retainer."

"Oh, I see." Hinoka shouldn’t be surprised he’d mention Kazahana as they both served her sister, but it seemed he was also more aware of Sakura’s plans for the future than she was herself. She hadn’t done much asking lately, and if she was being honest, they hadn’t had much innocuous conversation just as sisters even before the war. _I cared more about a stolen brother than the family I had. Why would Sakura want to stay near me?_

Her own smiled faded, but Hinoka kept her voice bright as she said, "That's so like Sakura to think of everyone, though I'll be lonely without her."

Tsubaki’s look gained shades of concern. "High Princess Hinoka, you've been strong during this difficult time of transition but there's no need for you to remain alone. Surely there's someone to stand by your side, someone to help you rule? Do you have a sweetheart to take as your husband?”

His words brought back her earlier blush tenfold. "N-no, there's no sweetheart. I'm actually unfamiliar with matters of love." _Pitifully so._

The majority of her life she’d been busy training, and her standing as princess meant most trainees she’d interacted with hadn’t the standing to strike up a courtship. Her father might’ve arranged a proper match if he hadn’t been killed, but Mikoto had never done so for any of them— as a girl she’d been relieved not to worry over betrothals. Yet now that she was becoming queen, any hopes for romance had been dashed.

Men were the heads of households and the appointed leaders in Hoshido. Yet the royal family had lost all of theirs, only two daughters having survived. Proposals of marriage from every eligible nobleman in Hoshido had been flooding Shirasagi Castle ever since the peace treaty had been signed. Hinoka had no doubts as to why— any man who became her husband would be recognized as a ruling consort and assume authority over the Byakuya family. To marry her meant becoming king, even if his authority to rule came through the bonds of matrimony rather than divine right.

Mikoto's long reign as regent had only further complicated matters. It'd empowered the royal consort's position and set the precedent that one could rule even when a blood heir was of age. It made Hinoka paranoid that every one of her would-be suitors might try and shunt her aside to take the reins of power themselves if given the opportunity. More proposals arrived each day. Others had warned that it'd soon become an insult for her to continually refuse them without good reason. However, Yukimura hadn't mentioned the issue, instead focusing on the impending coronation and reconstruction efforts, so Hinoka was happy to let it lie.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Hinoka distracted herself by teasing, "Why, Tsubaki, are you volunteering yourself for the position?"

His eyes went comically wide with a flush rising in his cheeks, before he bowed low. "No, High Princess, I've not the presumption!"

It almost stung how quickly he denied it, yet she was also glad he’d not agreed out of some misplaced sense of duty. "Good. Besides your eye's on someone else already, isn't it?"

Tsubaki’s blush deepened and his gaze fell demurely away as he righted himself, and despite his silence that was answer enough. Their conversation ended there as a sudden splash from the river had them both rushing over to fish Setsuna out before she could be washed downstream.

.viii.

Hinoka discovered that the shinobi, Kou, had come down with an illness that’d kept him abed. She’d also caught a cold that night by the pond, but it’d cleared up within a couple of days. It seemed his constitution was more delicate, which only made sense considering the Okazaki clan had originally sent Kagerou in their stead— unusual for a daughter to serve when there was a son. The fact that he’d be in good health if he hadn’t had to pull her out of the cold pond waters weighed on Hinoka’s conscience, and she decided to take action.

The castle physician had been unable to find a treatment for Kou’s lingering wet cough and fever, but Izumo was famous for its advanced medicines. It’d be easy for her to fly there and purchase some, she’d be able to do it and return within a day or two. After discussing the plan with Asama and Sakura, she had two golden kites saddled for herself and Setsuna.

As the birds were arriving, however, Yukimura came running out into the courtyard. “High Princess Hinoka, surely you’re not leaving three days before your formal coronation ceremony!”

She nodded, knowing he couldn’t really refuse her. “It’s my fault Kou’s sick, so it’s only right that I help him.”

Her adviser heaved a long sigh. “Very well, Your Eminence, just please don’t delay. Prince Leo left to join with the Nohrian king’s entourage and the feudal lords will be arriving in the capital soon.”

“I know, I promise not to dawdle.” She gave him a reassuring smile before swinging into the saddle and spurring her mount into the air.

The flight to Izumo wasn’t an easy one as they had to pass through Wind Tribe territory with it’s hot, sand-filled gales. The rough winds upset both golden kites more than her tenma had ever reacted to weather, and they lost travel time calming them. However, they still managed to arrive at Izumo’s palace with the sun still in the sky.

They hadn’t sent a messenger ahead so it was a surprise when it was Duke Izana himself who welcomed them. Although he continued his greeting into an invitation to one of his seemingly perpetual parties, Hinoka made sure to waste no time in requesting the medicine. The Duke didn’t try to cajole her further and instead summoned a medicine maker so she could clarify her request. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be ready before nightfall which meant she and Setsuna would have to stay until morning. For like tenma, golden kites couldn’t navigate in the dark, and though Yukimura would be frustrated he’d understand the decision.

Duke Izana, on the other hand was thrilled to play host for them, throwing yet another feast despite there just being two of them. Hinoka made sure to smile throughout the meal but couldn’t really taste the food— her mind was filled with too many bad memories.

Sakura had sat to her left and Takumi to her right, across the table from Nohr’s royalty. Her sister had cried when the smallest Nohrian princess berated her for calling Kamui ‘big brother’, while the rest shamelessly demanded gratitude from them despite what’d happened. She remembered how the truce had been broken, countless Nohrian soldiers had jumped out from behind screens. Even weaponless, Takumi and herself had been able to taken down those who got near them, but the moment the enemy had accosted Sakura and threatened her harm they’d surrendered to being chained and shackled. She could almost feel the cold metal of the manacles biting into the skin of her wrists and ankles, recalled that the pain hadn’t been nearly as cutting as the terror when their captors announced they were to be executed. _Those Nohrians had laughed over that death sentence, at the promise of killing helpless prisoners._ Ryouma being thrown into their cell similarly bound hand-and-foot had filled her with despair, and despite Kamui’s rescue she’d had nightmares under this roof.

To think a day where they’d all been temporarily reunited with their long-lost brother could be so terrible that she’d rather not think on it at all.

After the feast ended the Duke seated them with an orchestra to enjoy but thankfully didn’t sit with them. Freed of his presence, Hinoka was able to leave her seat between songs and get a much-needed moment alone. While some local nobles, the musicians, and her retainer occupied the center of the massive room its outer edges were uncrowded and hushed. She went to the closest corner, and curiously found that a different instrument was being played. Hinoka followed the twanging notes of music until she found its source— a biwa being played by an old man sitting in a secluded corner. Quietly as she could she walked over and took a seat on one of the spare cushions.

Once the song finished in a crescendo, she clapped and paid the compliment, "You play beautifully."

"I'm no songstress but thank you." The lone biwa player humbly dipped his head. His face turned towards her and light filtering past the screens from the center of the room illuminated the milky-whiteness of his half-open eyes. He was blind. "Call me Gankutsu. Who's my audience tonight?"

He couldn't see her face, didn't know who she was...the temptation on anonymity proved too great as Hinoka said, "I'm Hinabi."

She asked as tactfully as she could what he was doing in Izumo. Gankutsu told her the tale of how he'd been traveling through the recent battlegrounds, preforming to allay the fury of slain warriors' ghosts. When he'd reached the border between Hoshido and Izumo he'd been summoned to play in the palace for the Duke himself, and had been doing so ever since.

Hinoka almost wished aloud that he'd continued putting the fallen to rest, as she had no doubt the spirits harbored leftover anger— she'd certainly felt such still smoldering within her own heart. Yet this man was undoubtedly living more comfortably here than he would as a wandering beggar, so she left it unsaid. Instead she asked him to sing any songs about the most recent war and allowed herself to listen with reverent grief. Ryouma's daring and Takumi's cunning would live on in songs like these, they'd entered into history and she found a modem of comfort in that knowledge. When Gankustu began to sing about her defense of the Sevenfold Sanctuary and how her heart broke fighting against her own family, it roused her from her thoughts.

"W-wait, how do you... How do you know all this?" Hinoka interrupted. That defense in Notre Sagesse had failed and the reports hadn't mentioned how she'd entreated both Aqua and Kamui to return to Hoshido before having to fight them. She looked at the old man's face again, and though he was clean-shaven and bald now... she realized with a long beard and head of hair his face would’ve been familiar. "You're-"

Gankustu quieted her by putting a finger to his lips, other hand stilling on the biwa. "Those who passed the trials are rewarded. I was remiss the day you and Ryouma climbed my mountain to only speak with your brother. What would you ask of the Rainbow Sage?"

All the air escaped her at once, realizing who actually sat beside her. She'd thought the Sage had been killed by the Nohrians after she'd been forced to flee. It was said Izumo was a land visited by the gods, and she couldn't help but think one was beside her now. Hiding the trembling of her hands by setting them against her lap, Hinoka thought long and hard about what to ask.

"Please tell me, will Hoshido weather this storm? Or am I to be its end?"

Gankustu close his eyes and smiled. "On the contrary, Queen Hinoka, you will be the beginning of a new era."

Hinoka let a laugh bubble out of her and felt shockingly good over his words. The call of her title by a servant turned her head, and when she looked back the biwa player was gone. Almost in a daze she went to the guest room and fell into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, Hinoka woke late and actually felt rested. As she broke fast with a small meal alongside Setsuna a servant arrived at their rooms carrying a message— a western styled envelope sealed with wax. Its stamp was unmistakable: the insignia of Royal House Anya. Hinoka opened it, read the letter, and felt herself going clammy. King Marx had somehow discovered her presence in Izumo and wished to meet with her in Mokushu before her coronation. Such a stop wouldn’t truly interfere with her return, since it was an alternate route back to Shirasagi… thus as badly as she wanted to, Hinoka had no good reason to refuse him.

Appetite ruined, she brushed a quick response and handed it to the waiting servant to deliver by messenger and then prepared for the day ahead with no further delays.

Duke Izana was grinning like a fool as he bid Hinoka and Setsuna farewell. She could’ve sworn no one had seen her with Gankutsu, but the Duke’s talent for prophecy had her wondering if he’d known what would happen all along. Once they were settled in the saddle, Izana handed her retainer the jar of medicine. As Setsuna was preoccupied tucking it safely away in the saddlebags, he leaned in and whispered, “Princess Hinoka, I’ve a message from the gods: Remember to fully embrace what life brings you. Don’t hold back.”

.ix.

The black and purple standards of Nohr stood out like a blemish beside Moshuku’s capital city, Fuuma. While she knew the encampment to be the royal entourage rather than an army’s, Hinoka couldn’t shake the hyper-awareness that came over her as they walked amidst the tents. She was aware of every eye watching her, and all too aware that none of them would shed a tear if she happened to fall dead among them. Regardless of how it set her on edge, she kept her own gaze on the back of their silver-haired guide.

Yet finally arriving before the Nohrian king, Hinoka found herself only filled with further tension rather than relief.

He was dressed in western clothes less elaborate than she’d seen on him before, but he stood straight and tall as only trained warriors carried themselves. Despite the casualness of his clothing, the king’s pointed crown adorned his blond head. His dark eyes flicked over her new flight uniform, assessing just as she’d done to him, before meeting her gaze.

“High Princess Hinoka, thank you for meeting with me on such short notice,” King Marx rumbled as he stepped away from a table strewn with maps and towards her.

Fixing a smile onto her face, she said, “It’s no problem, King Marx. I am glad to speak with you anytime.”

He was watching her, closely, as if waiting for something. So she raised her hand before she could think twice, hoping the gesture would appease him. He took her hand in his, palm-to-palm, but rather than shaking he lifted their joined hands— bowing his head until his lips touched the back of her knuckles.

 _He’s kissing me!_ Hinoka froze, heart jumping to a gallop in her chest. She’d heard the stories of what befell Hoshidan women captured by marauding Nohrians, the dishonor and worse. If this king, a man twice her size, decided to use her body for his own pleasure there was little that could stop him. Hinoka could fight, Setsuna would try to defend her, but they were surrounded by the enemy and would inevitably be overcome. Silently cursing, she prepared to counter his attempt to grab her.

However, King Marx did none of these things. The kiss lasted for a blink of an eye, then he lowered and released her hand, moving no closer to her than he’d been before. His expression was unchanging as he said, “You’re undoubtedly wondering why I requested your presence here. My kingdom is endeavoring to resurrect the nation of Kohga, and we’ve hit a roadblock. The maps in our own archives and Moshuku’s have proven lacking in older maps that detail precisely where its borders had once existed. Without involving all of Hoshido’s court, I wanted to ask if you’d be willing to share Shirasagi’s library with us for reference?”

Ignoring her racing pulse, Hinoka held onto her composure and nodded. “As long as none are physically removed from the library, they’re free for your perusal,” by some miracle she kept her tone even.

Shaken as she was, her mind latched onto the implications. Kohga had been a small kingdom along the southwest coast that had been conquered by Moshuku forces during the early days of Sumeragi’s reign. Nohr had aided in that invasion, and undoubtedly had benefited from their ally’s expansion— so it went against their interests to restore Kohga. _Why would they weaken their foothold here?_

King Marx didn’t give further explanation, simply nodded and thanked her. He rounded back around to the far side of the table then waved for Hinoka and her retainer to come further inside the tent. The increased space between them did wonders for her nerves, but she only went within arm’s length from its edge— well out of his own reach.

He made no comment on her behavior, instead spoke in a quieter voice, “I have an additional request. The man we’d hoped to install as Kohga’s ruler has traveled here, but as of yet has no official status or title. Would you give permission for me to bring Shura to Shirasagi as a member of my entourage so that we might speak on the matters of Kohga there further?”

“Yes, I’ll permit it.” Resisting a frown, Hinoka indulged her curiosity instead. “Although, King Marx, I must ask why you’re going to such lengths? Isn’t Moshuku your ally?”

She hadn’t recognized the softness in his expression until it abruptly turned stony. The gentleness in his voice too was gone as he said, “Moshuku’s late Daimyo, Kotarou, discarded the alliance first. Moshuku giving up a portion of land will be the first step in proving its new ruler is sincere in their renewal of loyalties to Nohr.”

The way King Marx spoke it was obvious Moshuku had no choice in the matter— or rather, if they gave him a reason that he’d crush them without hesitation. For all the times he’d loomed over her, Hinoka realized he’d never been as unyielding as he was in that moment. Before her now stood a hardened military general, unafraid to strike out and destroy what dared to stand against him. She thought, a bit hysterically, _Thank the gods I’m not his target._

“As for Kohga,” That stoniness broke as a corner of his mouth curled upwards. “Its restoration is at Corrin’s request.”

“Is he here?” She reflexively asked, then struggled not to balk over her runaway tongue.

King Marx’s smile only grew as he shook his head, the red jewel of his crown rolling with the motion. “I’m afraid our brother left the moment our ships landed, to go touring with his husband. It’s likely Corrin will only turn up in time to attend your coronation.”

“Oh…” His answered filled her with too many feelings: Disappointment over having missed Kamui. Confusion over her brother not having a wife but rather a husband. Surprise at how this Nohrian had casually used ‘our’ as if their family’s kinship was equal. Ryouma had always been adamant the Royal House of Anya weren’t Kamui’s true family, that they had no right to lay claim to him— yet the affection towards Kamui that she saw in Marx seemed far from false.

A year ago the idea would’ve incensed her… but she’d had to come to terms that her brother had chosen to live as a Nohrian prince. In her darker moments she admitted to herself that Kamui had died alongside her father, and Corrin had taken his place. _I could’ve never flown over and saved Kamui, he was already gone._

“High Princess Hinoka, if you’d prefer…” King Marx trailed off, his voice once again quiet when he continued. “You and your retainer are welcome to stay and travel with us to Shirasagi. Corrin might turn up along the way, and you could see him then.”

That offer, the idea of staying close to this man for so long, proved too much. Hinoka declined with hasty thanks and then dragged Setsuna out of the tent without waiting for his permission to leave. She couldn’t get away fast enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe it’s canonical that Hinoka never had a significant other or big romance before the game’s events, mostly going by the evidence in [her S rank support with Tsubaki](https://pastebin.com/QtySj8Ld). From everything else I’ve read in the script, Hinoka seemed self-isolated and honestly rather friendless— more focused on training than anything else. This’ll be my first major work to stick to this canon backstory, rather than giving her more of a social life.
> 
> I based Hinoka’s memories of [Chapter 18’s events in Izumo on the Japanese script,](https://youtu.be/c18R0R78v6g?t=42m5s) not sure if the table dialogue is much different but wanted to give the reference. Hinoka’s bias is very evident there, as she lumps all the Nohrians in together not knowing (or caring) about the different factions. And personally, I find Ryouma’s holier-than-thou attitude a little hard to swallow after his shenanigans in Maracath. “We would’ve [helped]” my foot, Mr. fight-me-for-medicine.
> 
> Lute priests, aka Biwa Hoshi, were traveling performers in historical Japan which not only sang songs but also preformed religious ceremonies. Gankustu is my own artistic license applied to the Rainbow Sage, since supposedly he couldn't die until the cycle of war caused by the Holy Weapons he'd created had ended and in this timeline it’s yet to happen. That and well, lots of people climbed that tower, why's he only talk to one out of the bunch?
> 
> Despite Hinoka's wild misassumptions, Marx kissing her hand was in his mind a purely chivalrous gesture. Traditionally, the hand-kiss was initiated by a woman, who offered her hand to a man to kiss and was considered a respectful greeting. It was a gesture of courtesy and extreme politeness, and it was considered impolite and even rude to refuse an offered hand.


	4. Woman of A Thousand Summers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone has died, and Hinoka takes responsibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 4 warnings: ancient honor systems, mentioned suicide, blackmail and deception, public nudity, humiliation, and mentioned character death.

.x.

Hinoka should’ve known trouble would strike Shirasagi the moment she’d gone away. Yukimura had been waiting by the rookery when she and Setsuna had returned. He had told her the news— there’d been an altercation between one of the feudal lord’s men and Nohr’s occupying forces. After sending her retainer to deliver the medicine she tried to get the story, but no matter how she glared or huffed at him along the way, her advisor refused to divulge the specifics until they were in their usual office inside the castle.

“Really, I know the feudal lords bicker like children, but why this secrecy?” She asked while watching him murmur something to the guards then closing and locking the door.

Yukimura turned to her and said, “A Nohrian has been killed.”

She gasped aloud. “Here?! When, how?”

“Late yesterday a samurai from Sunshou traded insults with a Nohrian soldier, then challenged him to a duel. It was accepted, and the soldier lost.”

“A duel to the death with a foreigner,” Hinoka couldn’t hold back a scoff even as her heart sank.

Sunshou’s lands were along the northwesternmost border beside the Bottomless Canyon, and its ruling family had been Hoshido’s first line of defense against Nohr for generations. There was a lot of old grudges in the region, and they’d been the first hit by invading forces when Mikoto’s magical barrier fell. Even after the peace treaty had been signed the feudal lord there had refused to allow Nohrian troops to do more than pass through, the letters he’d sent threatened behavior that bordered on rebellion if she’d tried to force more cooperation from them. Where once had been staunch allies now lived rabble-rousers, it seemed.

It was childish how they wanted to be exempt, as if they were better than the rest of Hoshido. They'd all suffered because Nohr had _won_ , and now that the war was over they needed to avoid another. Hinoka was trying her hardest, but people like them were only making things more difficult. It'd been easy to drain the anger when everyday duties exhausted her, but now it seeped back in, like the rising of the tide.

Swallowing down the frustration, Hinoka asked, “Where was the samurai’s lord? He should’ve stopped this!”

“From the gathered information, Lord Fuyusuke of the Suruga family was present and allowed the duel. Considering how many casualties his forces sustained during the war, he likely wasn’t upset by the outcome.”

Anxiety twisted the frustration, and had her shouting, “King Marx will be here by tomorrow! Yukimura, how can we fix this?”

Her adviser sighed, looking as frazzled as she felt. “First Lord Suruga must be brought to heel. Then we can deal with the Nohrian commanders. How would you like to handle each, Your Eminence?”

No matter how she might bungle it, Hinoka _had_ to step in. It’d be disastrous to let matters progress this way, possibly devolving into anarchy and breaking the peace treaty. After a moment to think through several scenarios, she ordered, “Arrange for Lord Suruga and I to have tea together this evening, be discreet. For the Nohrians I want something just short of public. Invite the most important lords, we need the resolution to be well known.”

As the sun began to sink into the horizon, Hinoka entered one of the castle's isolated garden tea rooms where the waiting Lord Suruga bowed to her. He was a man heavy of jaw, with a wide and a stocky build obvious even with the bulk of his formal robes. His auburn hair was shot through with gray at his temples, his eyes framed by crow’s feet and mouth bracketed with lines. He was not a young man yet she knew he’d personally led his forces on the battlefield.

While she'd rather it be a casually shared drink, Hinoka was this feudal lord's liege and that required a level of propriety. So all the elements for a formal ceremony had been provided, even though she wouldn't truly be preforming one. Mentally rehearsing the steps, Hinoka kindled a small fire. She cleansed the implements with water and lined the tea bowls along a slotted tray. Scooping the green tea powder, she poured water, whisked, and finally offered a bowl to her guest.

He received it with another bow but waited for her to pick up her own bowl and drink, before turning and bringing it to his lips. They partook of the tea in silence. Hinoka forced herself to take each sip, as her stomach felt like a tight knot of nerves. Once the bowls were emptied and propriety observed, Hinoka began the conversation with pleasantries.

“Lord Suruga how was your journey to Shirasagi?”

“It was well, Your Eminence,” his voice sounded husky, as if his throat was parched despite just drinking. “The heat of the season has baked the dirt roads as hard as stone so travel went quickly.”

The summer this year did seem especially hot with few rainstorms to cool the air, perhaps the sun felt vengeful. _Too bad the clouds shielded Nohr from her punishment._

Nodding, Hinoka asked, “I heard your entourage was small, did you bring your family?”

“My wife Yumiko remains at home, but I brought my son Fuyuuji, who will be coming of age this winter.”

His words threw Hinoka back in time, to a different coming-of-age. Mikoto had stood in for their father, had announced Takumi was no longer a child. He’d smiled, his face round and boyish despite his adult attire. Less than a year later her younger brother had been a man leading on the battlefield.

Dragging her mind back to the present, she asked, “What of your daughter?”

Lord Suruga stilled for a moment, then set his tea bowl down with a solemn movement. “…she gave her life in defense of the kingdom. Fuyuko served with the tenma warriors, same as Your Eminence.”

Hinoka had to swallow against a sudden lump in her throat “…where?”

“In a western city called Dia with a counter-invasion led by Prince Takumi. I was told she fought bravely to the end.”

Although not an ounce of disrespect could be attributed to his tone or demeanor, the look in his eyes made it clear that pride was not what he felt over that fact. Hinoka was surprised he’d let his firstborn daughter serve in the army, in policy he favored conservative tradition… It was likely he regretted indulging a willful daughter. Perhaps it was why he was all the more defiant towards the one responsible for her wanting to leave home.

 _Maybe he would’ve felt better if Princess Camilla had cut open my throat after all._ Momentarily gnawing on her lip, she got to the point of their get together. “Lord Suruga I called you here to discuss a problem caused by one of your men. I _know_ you permitted the duel which cost a Nohrian soldier his life. So you must know that as your liege I require an answer for this insult?”

It didn't matter that the Nohrian soldier had accepted the duel and lost, he wasn't a subject of Hoshido thus its laws meant nothing to his superior officers. If they demanded compensation she'd have to give it, same went for punishment, to do otherwise risked further violence. Since the samurai had not only dishonored his lord but also his liege, the stakes were high and unforgiving.

“Has an insult been paid?” Lord Suruga rasped, expression seemingly bewildered. “Only months ago, killing the enemy would’ve been cause for celebration.”

Hinoka slammed a hand against the tatami mats. “Don’t play naïve! We lost the war and the peace that exists now is solely based on Nohr’s indulgence. Because of that duel that’s now at risk, and I will do whatever’s necessary to keep this peace. As your future queen, I repeat, what is your answer to this insult?”

He met the full force of her glare head on, irritatingly composed. “Is Your Eminence claiming dishonor?”

“I must. I cannot overlook this with King Marx and Nohr's princes almost at our doorstep.”

“Very well. Mifune created this dishonor, so I shall give him the opportunity to repair it. I will act as his second.”

Her heart ached as she nodded. Lord Suruga's call for the man’s life was a matter of course. Hinoka knew that, never mind that the samurai was one of her people, one of the _survivors_. If he didn't give up his life there was the possibility that later on his family would be executed alongside him as an example.

As terrible as it made her feel, better the samurai be allowed honorable suicide... same as Ryouma had chosen to take his own life.

“On the matter of Nohr’s king…” Suruga’s rough words dropped into a whisper as he abruptly leaned close. "High Princess, we know the roads where the Nohrians travel. The bulk of my forces have remained behind to lie in wait, give me the order and I can end them-"

Hinoka stood up. "No! Has Hoshido fallen so far that we would ambush those considered to be our guests? Is the great Lord Suruga no better than honorless King Garon and his butchery?" He reared back, affronted, but she continued, "Only half of Nohr's royal family have been sighted in the entourage. Should you strike and succeed, a Nohrian princess would become queen and undoubtedly avenge her fallen brothers."

They _had_ to maintain a state of non-aggression, the military was in tatters and a second war would destroy what little they'd recovered. Why did he hold onto delusions that striking out would somehow free them? King Marx’s death wouldn’t bring back Ryouma or Takumi or any of those lost. She’d promised not to leave Sakura alone, to survive— and she wouldn’t let old fools be the kingdom’s downfall.

Straightening her spine and lifting her chin, Hinoka used her most authoritative tone, “Suruga Fuyusuke, by the authority of the crown and as the Dawn Dragon’s chosen I order you to cease any collusions against Nohr and the west. Should you disobey, I’m afraid attendance to young Fuyuuji’s coming-of-age ceremony will be the least of your worries.”

She swept out of the room after that, hoping the threat alone would be enough to scare sense into the man.

.xi.

She called a meeting first thing the next morning, summoning the highest standing lords of the court alongside the commanders of Nohr’s occupying forces. Hinoka sat atop a padded platform, which ensured her head was high above all others despite her small stature, with Yukimura on the floor to her left and Sakura to her right. On one side of the room the feudal lords sat in seiza on cushions, and the other was the same— except the Nohrians appeared to be having issues sitting still.

They sat in all manner: some in a poor imitation of lotus position, some with their knees gathered against their chests, some with legs splayed open. She might’ve laughed had the reason for the gathering not been so grim. None them wore that black pointed armor, but instead uniforms with sashes and tassels and ribboned medals which seemed to designate their rank. The young man at the center wore a blue sash across his chest, the rest of him decorated to rather gaudy degree.

The dark brown of his hair had surprised her, Hoshidan in color although it fell across his brow in decidedly Nohrian waves. His round eyes were an icy blue and his wide mouth appeared to be constantly struggling not to break out into a smile. As Yukimura formally called the meeting to a start, she watched the Nohrian's gaze dart about the room almost gleefully.

After the feudal lord’s elected representative had introduced himself, the Nohrian actually stood and swept into a western style bow. "Your Highness, I am Peyton Boldt, lord and heir of Glamis." Introduction given, he sat back down and continued, "With Crown Prince Leo away, I was put in command.”

Hinoka nodded to them both but said nothing. Yukimura spoke for her, “We’ve gathered today to address the incident of Bushi Mifune and Sir Adder-”

“A tragedy,” the Nohrian commander cut in. “You can imagine my dismay when one of our men was cut down without warning! We were meant for peace keeping but it seems Hoshidans prefer that we'd be at war."

Those blue eyes stared right at her, full of challenge rather than deference. _He wants to see me trip up and fall._

"Lord Boldt, I must apologize for the actions of my vassal.” She could not bow, could not be seen as submitting. Still Hinoka differentially tilted her head as much as she was able, careful not to dislodge her headdress. “Please know that Hoshido wants peace."

"I don't believe you," he said with a smile.

It had Hinoka’s tongue stumbling, "W-what?"

"Your apology, Princess Hinoka. Pretty words.” His smile changed to an exaggerated frown. “But Nohrian blood has been spilled and I must insist that justice be served for this crime."

Sakura’s fingers fretted, Yukimura’s lips thinned, and Hinoka had to keep herself from frowning as she replied, "Lord Suruga has agreed to punish the man responsible. Surely a life for a life is justice enough?"

"Glad to hear, however... as Nohr and Hoshido are supposed to be allies, sincerity seems paramount in righting this wrong between us.” Condescension was thick in his tone of voice and had the hands in her lap clenching into fists. “As their ruler, surely you understand, Princess Hinoka?"

Although the feudal lords didn’t grumble aloud, their posture suffered as their eyes began to shift. If it’d been one of their own speaking to the High Princess this way they’d undoubtedly have stopped the behavior and taken him to task. However, this was a foreigner who’d technically been wronged and come before them for aid— a foreigner in command of the hundreds of troops still within Shirasagi. The lords knew to keep their tongues, but it was plain that they felt each insult the Nohrian flung her way.

Discreetly taking a fortifying breath, she asked, "What would you have me do?"

Lord Boldt’s eyes glinted and his upper lip curled as he once again smiled. "There is one way your sincerity could be proven. A tradition in Nohr is to wear no artifice or stitch of clothing while seeking penance. Ride naked through the streets and apologize to King Marx in this way, then all will be forgiven."

It should've been a poor jest, with such ridiculous an insult. Yet this man had said it before the entirety of not only the Nohrian commanders but also the gathered feudal lords. He'd given them an out. The room went deathly silent, proverbially holding its breath— some in outrage, some with anticipation.

Even as her pride stung, as scorn and shame tore at her, Hinoka didn't hesitate in saying, "Give me your word first, Lord Boldt."

.xii.

No one was to see her off, that Hinoka insisted upon. Only a tied and saddled mount waited in the courtyard as she entered wearing only a simple robe, arguments for a palanquin denied. While the Nohrians had offered horses for her use, she instead took up Tsubaki’s suggestion of his tenma with its wings netted so it’d be forced to keep hoof on the earth. She’d already be unbalanced by her lack of clothes, riding something unfamiliar was a step too far even for this.

Her handmaid trailed behind her, assigned to return with the clothing Hinoka currently wore so that Lord Boldt would have no room to claim she hadn’t fulfilled their bargain to the letter. Like the first day they’d met the green-haired woman kept her gaze on the ground, even as Hinoka shrugged out of the robe and laid it over her waiting arms. Rather than turning and heading back inside the castle, she lingered.

When Hinoka reached to untie the tenma’s lead, Miyokichi spoke in a whisper, "Princess Hinoka, you don't have to do this. We would fight for you." _Die for you._

"I don't want you to fight, not if I can avoid it. My dignity isn’t worth bloodshed." Hinoka made herself smile and kept bare feet planted on the hot paving stones by sheer force of will. The summer sun had been shining for half a day and had left the rock heated— tortuously hot against her skin even as every stray breeze made the rest of her shiver. The discomfort had her glad that she was to ride rather than walk.

“You _are_ worth it,” Miyokichi snapped, surprising Hinoka with the conviction in her voice. However, her handmaid’s tone mellowed as she said, "My fellows from Igasato went out with a message: the streets are to be emptied, every door and window shut. No eye is to look as you ride."

A wash of gratitude flooded Hinoka, filling her up until it threatened to leak from her eyes. She didn't deserve such respect or devotion, but receiving it made this bearable. After deep breaths she managed, “Thank you.” Then set herself back to the task at hand.

Grabbing onto the saddle she lifted until one foot was snug in a stirrup, wincing at the bite of metal on the tender soles of her bare feet, and swung into the seat. This too was strange, bare and sensitive parts of her pressed against hardened leather. While Hinoka had always scoffed at those who suggested parting legs to ride was unladylike, in this moment she was acutely aware of just that. The saddle was situated in a way that the tenma’s folded wings couldn’t cover her, and despite her hair having grown to touch at her chin in the past months it wasn’t even long enough to cover her neck let alone the rest. For this ride she’d truly be exposed.

 _You must do this, Hinoka. Just stear the skyhorse and forget the rest._ Exhaling hard, she flicked the reigns and directed her mount down the road into the city proper.

Hinoka rode through the streets, eyes forward and back straight and chin high, almost daring someone to look at her. Like Miyokichi had promised there wasn’t a soul to be found in the normally bustling city, instead it was almost eerily quiet and empty. As far as she could tell no one ever dared to peek out the shuttered windows when she passed by. With the sun at the height of the heavens there were few shadows so Hinoka felt sweat gathering from the effort keeping her posture and feeling the unrelenting rays. It was enough to make her speed the tenma’s pace and reach the city gate a little faster.

This was almost a mistake, for it was just as uncomfortable to sit before the gate anxiously watching the road for any sign of the Nohrian entourage. Mercifully, soon after her arrival she spotted the dust cloud—undoubtedly kicked up by a large group. She focused on keeping her breathing even and pulse slow as figures on horseback crested the hill and came into view. At the head of the procession rode the familiar blond men, both astride black, bulky horses with feathered hooves as only Nohr’s breeds could boast.

Despite Hinoka’s breathing exercises, she felt her heart pounding and spied how her numb hands shook. She didn’t move however, kept the tenma standing in the middle of the road. Once they were close enough she would apologize, and this mess would be cleaned up. Even if it meant she’d never be able to look King Marx in the eye again without burning with embarrassment.

Finally, Nohr’s royals had drawn close enough that she could make out details. Bidding her dignity farewell, she called ahead, “King Marx!”

It had the intended effect, as his horse picked up speed and broke away from the rest of the formation— coming straight towards her. However, just as he edged through the gateway she saw his brow furrow, then King Marx abruptly shouted over his shoulder, “About face!”

Far behind him every Nohrian obeyed the order, even Prince Leo, while the king rode towards her at a quick trot.

Trying not to think of how her breasts might be heaving, she took a breath and began, “I greet you like this to apolo-”

Hinoka was unable to finish her scripted apology, for Marx undid the clasps of his cloak and without a word threw it over her. She yelled as he proceeded to pluck her out of the saddle, swaddle her within the cloth, then hold her in his arms like some sort of overgrown infant. Once she’d squirmed enough to dislodge the cloak from over her head, she demanded, “Wh-what’s the meaning of this!?”

“I do not know why you were so exposed, High Princess Hinoka, but I must insist you allow me to deliver you like this to Shirasagi’s castle where you can don proper clothing.” His gaze shifted away as the smallest starts of a blush rose over his cheekbones. “I am not a strong enough man to go… unaffected by the sight of your bare body.”

At that Hinoka’s own blush covered her face, out of humiliation, embarrassment, and anger. King Marx’s reaction made it clear that there were no ‘nude apologies’ in Nohr, she had been duped. His arm was like a bar of metal bent around her, immovable, so she gave in and let herself be cradled against his firm chest. As they rode the material of his cape proved distressingly plush, caressing all over her bare skin— Hinoka had to bite down on her lip for a distraction.

“If you’ll humor me.” She flinched, almost feeling the words rumble out of him. “Why did you greet me in this manner?”

Hinoka’s blush burned hotter, as she admitted, “I intended to apologize for an incident which occurred between our men.”

“And you had to be naked to do so?”

“I-I was told it was a tradition in your kingdom.” _He’ll think me a fool…and not be wrong._

King Marx made a sound deep in his throat, but surprisingly let the matter drop. The rest of the ride was spent in quiet and though it took a torturously long amount of time, they eventually arrived before Shirasagi castle. He didn’t say a word as he handed Hinoka’s bundled form off to Asama, but her retainer more than made up for it as he carried her into the castle.

“My, my, not even queen and already you’ve made history. Perhaps it’ll become fashionable for royalty to expose themselves in public.”

“Shut up.”

“No, no, you should be congratulated. For all of that Nohrian’s fearsome scowls, he looked more like a scolded schoolboy at having seen a naked woman.”

“Asama, _shut up!_ ”

She just about kicked the priest when they reached the main hall, then kept the cape against her and walked the rest of the way to her rooms on her own two feet.

Hinoka had just finished a bath and Miyokichi was helping dress in one of the more complex set of robes when Yukimura burst into her room without knocking. His spectacles were askew, with beads of sweat visible on his unusually pale face. Before she could ask what was wrong he spoke in a rush, “King Marx called the Nohrian commanders before him in the courtyard. After a few words he began taking their heads, starting with Lord Boldt. I just witnessed the slaughter with my own eyes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter title was taken from the poem “Godiva” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson, and its content inspired the ending scene. Another idea here is the fact that [we’re told in-game that at least half of Nohr’s army is not loyal to Marx](http://damoselcastel.tumblr.com/post/151588065581/and-yet-the-battle-map-following-this-wasnt-an), so consider Lord Boldt as one of with no respect for his king and looking to stir up trouble.
> 
> I know the game tries to claim that there were no causalities to the Hoshidan forces for half of Conquest… but nonlethally fighting pegknights with ballista? That I can’t buy.
> 
> Both the noble families of Bodlt and Suruga were names taken from [the Japanese script Saizou/Belka supports](http://pastebin.com/21Cs4XBr). They're my go-to canon nobility to create setting-based conflicting character with. [IAWG readers may remember Peyton Boldt from Chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4370321/chapters/11739470), where he got off with a far lighter punishment than in this verse.


	5. Flowers of Night, Cloth, and Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Hinoka's coronation and she feels many things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 5 warnings: discussions of death and blame, internal emotional conflict, confusion, insomnia, religious imagery and language, PTSD flashback, mentions of corpses and decay, drunkenness.

.xiii.

With only starlight it was easy to see the fires burning in the field outside of Shirasagi’s city walls, even from a castle window. King Marx had sent a messenger requesting permission to fell trees and build pyres— to cremate the bodies of the men he’d executed —and Hinoka had granted it without a second thought. Better to let the Nohrians turn to ash than to bring unrest to all Hoshidans laid in the earth. At least it would be over before dawn, unlike the Wind Tribe’s funeral rites which would’ve required leaving the bodies to be picked clean by carrion birds for days and only afterwards laying the bones under water.

 _The sacred earth. The sacred fire. Does Nohr consider anything holy?_ Hinoka huffed out a breath and turned away from the night-dark window. She should return to her room and try to sleep, but she felt the tension of the day still gathered between her shoulder blades, stress pounding in her temples, and knew it’d be a futile attempt. Instead she wandered the halls like a ghost, not leaving the privacy of the floor, but unable to stay still.

Only when she passed by the door to her sister’s room did muffled sounds make her stop. Sakura was sobbing, loudly enough to be heard from the hall. For a moment Hinoka hesitated, all the reasons why her presence would only further upset her sister flitting through. _You owe this to her. Just knock, Hinoka!_ Gathering her remaining daring remained as she knocked on the edge of the screen.

After some shuffling and sniffles the door slid open. It revealed a face full of shaking, anxious lines and fresh tear-tracks. Even her voice trembled as Sakura said, “B-Big Sis-Sister.”

“Hey, it’s been a tough day.” Hinoka kept her voice low. “Mind if I stay with you tonight?”

Sakura shook her head and slid the door further open. Hinoka thanked her and stepped inside. Even as the door clicked closed, she heard the too-quick breaths behind her and stopped short, turning to hug her sister close. Sakura collapsed into the hold without resistance, easy as the fall of rain. Her sister than wrapped her arms around Hinoka’s middle and buried her face against her shoulder. Her small frame shook with the force of her renewed sobs, her tears wicked into the silk of the robe. Hinoka carefully drew her hands in circles against her back and murmured what she hoped were soothing words.

After several long moments Hinoka heard her rapid breaths slowly evened out, although the wetness from her tears remained. Gingerly, Sakura drew away to look at her, eyes rimmed red and puffy but clear of the haunted look she’d had before. “Are y-you okay?”

Hinoka shrugged. “I’m fine. My modesty might never recover, but apparently it’s enough make the lords behave for a while.” _Either that or they’re all on high alert because of King Marx._

Sakura nodded then fully drew away, things Hinoka’s night-vision was just good enough to perceive. It was dark in Sakura’s room; her windows were shuttered tightly and no lanterns were lit. Yet it also felt cozy, lived-in and full of that warmth… so unlike the massive rooms that belonged to Hoshido’s reigning monarch which took up an entire floor of the castle all on its own. Hinoka had managed to put off moving into them until after she was crowned queen… she didn’t look forward to living alone in those open, empty rooms.

Her younger sister walked further into her room, and led Hinoka straight to her rumpled futon. Down beside the pillow Hinoka spied hand-stitched cloth dolls with different hair colors: bright red, pale blue, dark and light brown. Sakura hastily set these aside and pulled back the blankets, so they could both lie down. The futon was sized for a single occupant rather than two, but they dealt with that by curling close and nestling together like kite chicks in a mound of blankets.

Hinoka had hazy memories of sharing a futon with her siblings when they’d been small— Ryouma, Kamui, and even a toddling Takumi —but was pricked by guilt as she realized she’d never really done so with Sakura before now. She’d been too invested in starting her training to give the youngest much sisterly time, and yet they were now the only family each other had left. At least, the only family who still called Shirasagi home.

It was too early in the season for the cicada’s cry, and this floor too high up to hear the crickets below. Only the occasional gust of winds creaking against the castle walls broke the hush of night. A tad uncomfortable with the quiet between them, Hinoka asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Without hesitation, Sakura’s words burst out, “I-I was… So _m-mad!_ That hor-horrible man h-humiliated you j-just because he c-could. I h-hated him, I w-wanted him t-to…” Her eyes fluttered until her lashes clung wetly together. “To die.”

“It’s not your fault, King Marx punished Lord Boldt for his actions.” Hinoka spoke firmly, unwilling to let her sister wrongly shoulder such blame.

“I-it’s what I w-wanted… but w-when I heard Nohrians where k-killing each other, I got so s-scared, Hinoka.”

“You’re not the only one. I worried Yukimura would collapse into hysterics when he first told me about it.”

Sakura gave a little laugh, though sobered quickly. “W-weren’t you scared?”

“I… I honestly was too confused. Nohr’s King is unpredictable, I just don’t understand what’s going on in his head.”

“W-well… he’s Kamui’s ad-adopted brother. Maybe he s-sees you like a sis-sister?”

Recalling King Marx’s confession over being ‘effected’ by her nudity, Hinoka couldn’t hold back a skeptical noise. “Probably not. But he does seem protective, for whatever reason.”

“I c-can’t trust him. N-not after…” Sakura brought up a hand and rubbed the heel of her palm across her tear-stained cheeks.

“You don’t have to, Sakura. Let me deal with him.” _Let me make up for neglecting you._

“D-do you trust h-him?”

“Not even as far as I can throw him, which considering, wouldn’t be very far.”

Sakura broke into giggles this time, apparently tickled by the mental image of Hinoka wrestling a man twice her size. After that their conversation turned to lighter fare: How the main buildings of the city temple had been turned into a makeshift hospital but few of the initial patients still required treatment. Who out of the merchants had withheld documents until the last minute for running stalls for the festival. What a chore assigning positions within the throne room had been.

Sakura eventually drifted to sleep while they were twined together, like saplings planted too close. Slumber was far from Hinoka, as her mind kept turning over what they'd spoken about, the implications, along with everything that came tomorrow. Unable to move or stop thinking, she watched her sister sleep and kept a silent vigil throughout the night.

.xiv.

It'd been physical damage to the throne room that'd delayed Hinoka's coronation: holes in the floor, tilting pillars, crumbling stone, and strangely enough, copious water damage. They'd had to permit Nohrian mason workers and carpenters in, since their own guilds had been busy helping those who'd lost their homes and shopfronts as there was only so long they could delay the ceremony. Ryouma had never gotten a chance for a proper coronation, only the feudal lords bending knee and declaring their loyalties to him as Hoshido's king before the armies marched out.

Yet even with that delay a new gown for the ceremony wouldn't have been finished in time, so Yukimura had suggested they reuse formal robes from the castle storeroom instead. They might've used one of the Queen Regent's old robes, but they'd all been taken in to fit Sakura following a sudden growth spurt. And really the white and blue suited her sister better. Instead they'd excavated a set that'd belonged to their great-grandmother— an extravagant twelve-layered robe that was so out of fashion it was literally an antique. The beauty of the pearl embellished, jacquard silk remained however, and none would mistake her for anything but Hoshidan with Byakuya's insignia stitched over her breast as she ascended the throne.

The many silken layers made the robe heavy, and its long train dragged behind and threatened to stumble her steps. For weeks Hinoka had worn the twelve-layered robe in the evenings just to practice moving in it. Yet somehow the cosmetics of that bygone era had managed to remain in fashion. The moment she had returned to her room in the gray pre-dawn light, Miyokichi and half-a-dozen other female servants had set upon her: bathing, massaging, brushing, feeding, dressing, then finally applying make-up. Hinoka had never been a woman of refinement and had no intention to sit through such beauty routines every morning. _Today I have to make an exception._

She went along with it, had protested only to keep her eyebrows from being plucked into nothing. She’d closed her eyes and held her breath as her face and neck were powdered white. She’d kept her eyes closed so they could line the edges of her lids with kohl then marked her forehead with vermilion. She’d exposed and grit her teeth as they scraped the powered iron and gallnuts over them. She’d pursed her mouth, so they could easily brush on the safflower lip-paint. She’d concentrated on spreading her fingers and keeping her hands still as they buffed then lacquered her nails red.

The final touch had been a wig, the long strands of its hair a duller red than her own natural shade, but necessary as the crowning ceremony involve putting up hair to hang through the sun-halo. The pins that kept the wig in place had scratched at her scalp as they’d styled the majority of it into an elaborate up-do. When Miyokichi had held up a hand mirror to show the results a strange, elegant lady had stared back at Hinoka. Worthwhile, even if her face had felt stiff from the coating of rice-flour and her mouth had tasted bitter from the blackening.

By the time the servants had finished, it’d been well past dawn. A guarded palanquin had transported her through the city streets, already lined with her subjects, until she’d disembarked in the middle of the largest public courtyard. Priests and attendants from the city’s shrine had received Hinoka, blessed her with incense and had her drink a cup of sacred wine. Once they’d finished she’d walked until she’d stood before the newly restored statue of the Dawn Dragon, which shone a brilliant white in the morning light. Folding her hands together she’d bowed and offered a prayer aloud, one that swore to uphold the doctrines of heaven and requested divine guidance. Following ancient tradition, she’d placed a small box that contained the dried remains of her umbilical cord at the foot of the statue as offering, then returned to the palanquin.

Surrounded by priests, shrine maidens, and the royal guard Hinoka had been carried to the Byakuya family tomb. There she’d ritually informed her ancestors that she would take the throne, and placed food offerings at each grave. Afterwards, she’d returned to Shirasagi castle with the same parade, welcomed by the sound of drums. The beats resounded through her as she climbed the stairs and fell silent once she stepped foot in the throne room.

All of this had passed in what Hinoka might consider an out-of-body experience. She’d known what was required of her, they’d rehearsed weeks before, and she’d gone through the motions without much thought in her head or stirring of her spirit. Yet now that she approached the White Throne, everything felt intensely real.

Under the make-up her skin itched, while her belly churned over its meager contents and left Hinoka queasy. Her head ached from the weight of the wig, just as her muscles strained against the drag of the trailing robes. It was a struggle to keep her hands folded before her, her arms were tense with the effort even as her hands remained unfeeling. It was quiet, almost as quiet as her visit to the royal tomb had been. Yet her other senses couldn’t deny the sight, warmth, and _smell_ of so many living bodies— a sea of people watching her every move. Resisting the urge to bite her lip, Hinoka walked until she reached the end.

A raised table had been set up a pace before the steps of the throne, holding the national treasures of Hoshido’s holy weapons. Hinoka’s pulse quickened at the sight of them, reverently placed at the center of attention. Her sister had been the one to arrange this table, just as Sakura had retrieved their brother’s bow from the Wall of Susanoo. It was tradition for the ascending heir to pick up one and display its power, to prove their blood claim was true.

Raijinto laid beside the edge nearest to her, blade hidden by its white and gold sheath, so Hinoka stretched out her arm. Yet as her fingers neared the hilt, a mental flash— pain dancing down her arms, up her spine, locking her muscles —had her flinching away. Swallowing against the memory, she stretched her arm further towards the Fuujin Yumi. It was foolhardy of her, she’d held the sacred katana before and had even called its lightning. Yet this other holy weapon was renowned for rejecting the unworthy, for bending only to the strongest wills. Hinoka saw her fingertips touching the silvery wood of the stringless bow and gave a silent prayer. _Please, please answer my call. I’m no Takumi, but Hoshido needs you. So please._

As her fingers wrapped around the grip, she bit back a gasp as tingling overcame her numbness and music filled her mind. It was the music of wind, from gentle breezes to typhoon gusts. This music made Hinoka’s veins feel full to bursting, and her heart worked frantically to keep up with its beat. It was the Fuujin Yumi singing not with breath and tongue, but with divine power and magic. Its song unsettled her, almost drowning out her thoughts. Perhaps a reminder that although the bow was an ancient and sacred relic, it was also a weapon made by the gods.

It took all of Hinoka’s focus to bring order back to her mind, but she _felt_ the Fuujin Yumi against her palm as she raised it up off the table. Holding the bow aloft, she thought fiercely, _I, Hinoka, am your wielder now!_ Its music gave a crescendo and the fringe of the wig was blown back from her face as a gust of magic swirled out— manifesting a bowstring made from glowing, green light. Noise behind her suddenly broke the quiet, hushed gasps and murmurs.

“The Fuujin Yumi recognizes the High Princess as the Dawn Dragon's chosen!” Yukimura declared in a loud voice, as she turned so that all might witness the bow and its glowing string in her hands.

Hinoka forced herself to look out and meet the gazes of the gathered audience. The feudal lords, civil officials, and all guests of consequence filled the throne room. Sakura stood in the front-most row to the right, the only surviving family to claim the space, and her eyes brimmed with tears although her mouth was curved into a smile. On the opposite side stood the royalty of Nohr, Hinoka had to fight a smile of her own as she spotted Kamui’s wide eyes and ecstatic grin. Then fought disappointment as Prince Leo leaned in and whispered something that stole Kamui’s attention. Petulantly she kept her gaze moving, rather than dwelling on the two of them, only to be arrested by the hard stare of King Marx.

The room suddenly felt too small to contain the agitation rising in Hinoka’s chest, growing bigger and bigger under those dark eyes until it threatened to smother her— the glowing bowstring dissipated.

She had to keep from flinching when Yukimura tapped her elbow in a signal to turn around yet was glad for the excuse to look away. The throne before her was empty, but traditionally the preceding monarch would've risen from the seat and assisted her into it— signifying a willing abdication and passing of leadership. If Sumeragi, Mikoto, or Ryouma had been here, they would've been the one to lift the crown from its cushion and place it on her head. Yet if any of them had survived she wouldn't have become queen… so Hinoka pushed such fancies from her mind.

Instead she climbed the steps and took Yukimura's proffered hand, while keeping hold of the sacred bow as she made to sit. For a split second, Hinoka was filled with the irrational fear that the White Throne of Truth would reject her as untrue— then her bottom was firmly against the seat and a relieved breath escaped her. It was comparatively easy to sit and let Yukimura manipulate the wig's hair, threading the long strands through the halo as he placed the Rising Sun Crown on her head.

As he set its weight fully down, Yukimura spoke the ancient rote, "As a symbol of your coronation. Please accept this crown."

"I pledge here to fulfill my duties as ruler and enrich this country," Hinoka recited in turn.

As her adviser stepped down, Hinoka made sure to sit tall in the White Throne and under the crown’s weight, tingling hands still holding Fuujin Yumi to her lap and chest still tight with agitation.

Yukimura’s voice was full of pride as he announced, “From today on Byakuya Hinoka, descendant of Hotoke's holy bloodline, will rule all of Hoshido as its new queen!"

"May your days be long, and your rule be just!” The audience cheered as one, then the lords bowed low— and it was enough, the agitation receded. Her heart felt light and her hands tightened on the bow as its godsong sang through her veins.

.xv.

After her acceptance speech had been given and all feudal lords granted the opportunity to bend knee and swear their loyalties, Hinoka was finally able to remove the wig and wash off the cosmetics. There was no opportunity to change or rest, however, as she was escorted into the city to a raised and covered platform so that her common-born subjects could greet the newly crowned queen. Shirasagi was also packed with a proper festival in celebration of her enthronement. From her elevated seat Hinoka was able to observe the surrounding food and game booths, bands of musicians, entertainers, and crowds. Someone had even hired a troop from the Fire Tribe: fire jugglers, fire breathers, and shadow puppeteers. Gaggles of children ‘ooooh’ed and ‘aaaaah’ed over their acts, laughing and squealing lightheartedly. It felt like the entire city had come into the streets and like everyone was doing their best to throw away their troubles for a night.

Although she couldn’t leave her seat and royal guards surrounded her position in a loose net, Hinoka was among her people and glad to see their happy faces. She wasn’t alone, either, Sakura and Yukimura stood beside the platform, accepting gifts on her behalf. Unlike the extravagant gifts from noble families, these tended to be simple things: charms, folded paper art, and handmade decorations. There were also dumplings, peaches, and other good-luck foods. Hinoka helped herself to those gifts, hungry from a long day of ceremony. When the elderly patriarch of a local premier brewery presented a cask of their finest, she couldn’t resist sampling it before him and giving her compliments. She might’ve drank the rice wine a time or two more as the sky darkened and strings of lanterns were lit.

By the time the gifts and well-wishes had finished, the stars and a slender slice of the moon shone against the black night sky. Hinoka had given up good posture for laying back against the pile of cushions, tired and drowsy but content. The crown made it difficult to lie back fully, but she didn’t dare remove it.

Sakura had climbed onto the platform the moment after she’d flopped back. Her voice sounded threadbare as she said, “Big Sis-Sister, you’re d-drunk!”

“Sorry, sorry… Guess I cut too loose?” A short laugh bubbled out of Hinoka, then she waved towards the booths. “Go enjoy the festival, Sakura. I promise to stay here and keep out of trouble.”

Her sister hesitated for a moment, but after Yukimura added his promise to remain and look after ‘the Queen’ her head of pink hair ducked out of Hinoka’s vision and pattering footsteps faded soon after. All the wine in her belly had clearly gone to Hinoka’s head. She felt good, better than she had since that terrible day in the blood-soaked fields where Kamui had refused to come home. A golden sort of inebriated happiness that couldn’t be tarnished— even as her solitary celebration was intruded upon.

“May I join you?”

Hinoka motioned for him to sit even before she realized it, sitting up herself fast enough to make her own head spin. Once the dizzy spell had passed she looked over her guest, there was just enough light to see him by. The Nohrian King had also dressed up for the occasion— although this set of western regalia was more gold and black than purple. The cape he wore was the same one he’d wrapped her up in yesterday, she’d made sure to have it returned to him, but seeing it now she wished her fingers could sneakily feel its plushness again. The half-light brought the lines of his face into stark relief, turned his skin white as paper and eyes black as drops of ink. The highlights in the curls of his hair were brilliant against the shadows, more golden than yellow. She was drunk enough to admit to herself that she found the man attractive.

King Marx had settled more naturally against the cushion than his fellows and appeared at ease to being within arm’s reach of her. She glanced beyond the platform to her adviser and found Yukimura had taken several steps away with his eyes pointedly averted, discretion for two monarchs it seemed. Hinoka didn't ask the Nohrian why he wanted to talk to her, that was rude and too obvious.

Instead, she asked, “Are you enjoying the festival?”

“I think Corrin is more thrilled with these festivities than myself, particularly the booth for catching a goldfish.” King Marx’s lips didn’t curl into a smile, but his tone was warm. “I am intrigued by the amount of food present, and admit to having asked vendors how they grow their crops.”

“Trying to discover the secret to our prosperity?” The snipe left her tongue before she nearly choked on it. _I’ve had way too much wine._

Marx raised a single brow and sent her a look that had Hinoka biting her lip. However, his voice wasn’t stern as he replied, “Can you blame me? What is it that Hoshido’s land has and Nohr’s doesn’t? What is the difference between us?”

“You’re just jealous.” She spoke without thinking, caught up in the banter and lowered inhibitions. “Jealous that a good god provides.”

“You’re right. Nohr has always envied Hoshido’s fertile fields, long growing seasons, plentiful harvests, and abundant game.” This time his tone and words were cutting, “When one’s starving while your neighbor leaves food to rot, it’s hard not to be jealous.”

Hinoka felt her mood deflate, unable to forget the old royal reports she’d read on Nohr’s poverty and famines. How her father and Mikoto had known, having sent their agents to spy and more. While bottled-up resentment kept pity at bay normally, in the moment her inebriated mind hated the idea of anyone having to go without.

Before she could express such, King Marx continued wryly, “I also envy how the Hoshidans are so devoted to even a green and untested queen.”

“Hey, you’ve only been Nohr’s king for a few months!” Hinoka protested.

“Yes.” He sighed and suddenly looked weary. “And as you’ve experienced firsthand how some of my subjects seek to undermine me in any way possible. I’ve yet to earn their respect… inspiring their fear is accomplished so much faster.”

“…they’ll never love you if they fear you.”

“Perhaps but I won’t tolerate the abuse of my friend’s trust.” Hinoka jolted, shocked by his choice of words. It was likely plastered all over her face, as his expression grew concerned, “Ah, did I overstep?”

She scrambled to think straight, desperately stringing words together. “N-no, I mean… we are allies. I just don’t know you very well, Marx. Pardon, I mean, King-”

“Please, between us when we’re alone, there’s no need for titles. I’d like for you to know me better. May I address you as Hinoka?”

She swallowed, and not trusting her voice, nodded, the motion exaggerated because of the weight of the crown. Marx stared at her, eyes intense like that day she’d returned to Shirasagi. _What is he thinking? What does he want?_ The Nohrian king opened his mouth, but before he could speak a firework screamed into the sky. Its blazing trail exploded into a flower of gold— a breath’s span behind it, a red one flew up and burst. The display only multiplied from there, filling the sky with glittering colors and the air with pops and sizzles. They’d both turned towards the first and were now watching. She idly wondered, _Is this the first time he’s seen fireworks?_

The thought had her glancing and noticing that despite his eyes looking to the skies, that his mouth still moved. The explosions of the fireworks almost completely hid his voice, but Hinoka strained her ears and caught snippets of Marx’s song.

“Pride keeps us strong today,  
glory will be with us.  
Now the time has come,  
to fight and seize the day…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The four dolls in Sakura’s room are from [her supports with Suzukaze](https://pastebin.com/tMD3P2UK), and the idea she’d sleep with them after her brothers died and adopted sister disappeared just seems natural.
> 
> Hinoka's crown is an accessory called the "Sun Tiara" within the game. It's the same crown Mikoto wore, cause like with Marx and Garon's crown, it just makes sense for them to be sort of artifacts passed down from ruler to ruler. Yukimura’s lines for the coronation were inspired by [the canon epilogue for Birthright in the Japanese script.](https://youtu.be/vpuOREPk1gc?t=19m26s)
> 
> The first half of Hinoka’s conversation with Marx was [inspired by his DLC talk with Silas.](http://fe14festivalofbondstranslations.tumblr.com/post/147298405528/nohrian-festival-xander-and-silas-conversation) The snippet of lyrics that Marx sings at the end are from [a track titled "Theosoir, Shadow of the Lowlands"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ma6XlGC-36o) which I find quite beautiful; you can bet I'll be using it again.


	6. Forest for the Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka makes several discoveries, mostly unpleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 6 warnings: referenced involuntary restraint, harm to animals, mentions of dissection and the ingestion of meat, racism and bigotry, referenced kidnapping and imprisonment, referenced character death.

.xvi.

The week since Hinoka had been formally coronated had passed quickly. Not only in celebration and public appearances, but also serious work. With the heads of the noble families gathered they reviewed the kingdom’s policies and laws, proposing and discussing changes. Individuals of merit were named for vacant positions of power, and territories adjusted as some ruling lines had been wiped out altogether. She also heard grievances from the vassals and, with input from Yukimura, offered solutions to their disputes. It would’ve been better if she hadn’t appeared so reliant on her adviser, but she wasn’t so prideful to dole out poor decisions for appearances sake.

In her youth Hinoka had turned from her lessons as a princess for that as a warrior, and now she lacked key knowledge. She knew her history but not regional policies, understood war strategies but not diplomacy, could manage army supplies but struggled with economics and finances as a whole. It was half the knowledge needed to rule a nation, and Hinoka was determined to learn the rest as quickly as possible— yet there were times it felt like too little too late.

Since moving into the ruler’s quarters, she’d converted one of the auxiliary rooms into an office to store any ledgers or scrolls borrowed from the castle library. Every evening she dedicated several hours to studying and on nights she couldn't sleep she read instead. These studies had opened her eyes to how Sumeragi had strived for a peaceful Hoshido in harmony with their neighbors How her father had successfully brokered treaties with the eastern tribes and countries, but had died with his efforts in the west. While Mikoto had achieved peace, but not only through her miraculous magics— it'd also come at a cost to the kingdom. Alongside the barrier Hoshido had also closed its borders to all outsiders, only the most important of individuals had received exceptions to visit. Trade with neighboring nations had come to a halt and internal commerce had become mired with bribery and corruption. Things had felt perfect in Shirasagi but only because so many surrounding towns and cities had paid the price.

Now that isolation had fallen, and although Hinoka would never justify the shattering of Hoshido's sovereignty, intellectually she could acknowledge that they couldn't have remained closed off from the rest of the world indefinitely. That would only earn them more hardship as the conditions of the former peace hadn't solved any problems, only compounded them.

Such as the current dilemma with the resurrection of Kohga. When that nation had fallen a few of its highest standing families had been taken into Hoshido as refugees, but the majority of its population had been turned away and had to seek asylum elsewhere. Even with the land granted from Moshuku people of all status were needed, and there needed to be functional infrastructure in place before anyone would want to immigrate. Those few Kohgan families in Hoshido and what they might offer were the topics of discussion between herself and the two men sitting across the table.

“The Zhiyi family are successful merchants and would undoubtedly be capable of reestablishing trade and commerce for Kohga.” Shura’s expression grew hopeful and Hinoka held back a sigh, “I’m afraid they’ve have not only been employed by, but also intermarried with the Senou family. It’s an enviable position and they might not wish to leave Shirasagi.”

“A complication. Unlike the others, they’re unlikely to be convinced by monetary compensation.” Marx heaved a sigh and jotted down a note with a quill pen onto the open scroll over the table. “However, that is the final name. If this list can be recruited, Kohga’s government could be formed within the year.”

Shura’s expression fell into stern contemplation, and he abruptly rose from his seat.

“Leaving already?” Marx asked as the man stood.

Shura grunted an affirmative. “It sounds like I’ll have to go in person to make appeals. I need to visit a local tailor and get a proper outfit. Please excuse me, Queen Hinoka, and thank you for the productive meeting.”

The Kohgan bowed and then headed out the door without waiting for further acknowledgement from the Nohrian king. Their entire dynamic befuddled her: Shura observed careful politeness with herself, while acting almost dismissively toward Marx despite the Nohrian being his patron, and assumably, his liege. Yet when Hinoka glanced over, she found no hints of anger on Marx’s features. _Why’s he going out of his way to help this seemingly ungrateful man?_

Hinoka didn’t flinch when Marx sat back and abruptly caught her gaze, as much as his hard stares still unnerved her— uncanny in how closely it felt like he looked. Thankfully, he spoke of a completely different topic than her thoughts, “It’s a pity none of Kohga’s ruling family survived. If there’d been a legitimate heir, I’m sure the Kohgans would’ve rallied about them to help restore their country.”

 _Like Hoshido did with me? How convenient our survival must’ve been._ Hinoka bit her tongue, and instead said, “I doubt it would’ve been so simple. It’s been a generation since Kohga was conquered, and I imagine the children born and raised in other lands might not even consider themselves Kohgan.”

Marx’s brow furrowed. “Do you truly think their culture would be replaced in so little time?”

“Prince Corrin certainly seems to consider himself a Nohrian,” she replied, feeling both bitter and resigned.

He didn’t frown at her tone, however, instead looked intrigued. “You’ve not had an opportunity to speak with Corrin, have you, Hinoka?”

She chafed at his words and the familiar use of her name, but kept her tone even as she answered, “We spoke briefly following my coronation, though not as long as I would’ve liked.”

Marx nodded, more to himself than her. “I believe that should be rectified.”

After clearing her schedule for the remaining of the day, it didn’t take long to arrange for an informal afternoon meal in one of the garden tea rooms. She invited not only Kamui, but Sakura as well, and felt a glowing contentment once the three of them were sitting together. Their brother looked just as she remembered: his innocent face with coral-red eyes, his cream-colored hair and pale skin… his clothing western and dark in color. She also couldn’t help but notice he didn’t sit in seiza and when small dishes of foods were brought out how he fumbled with the chopsticks. These details dimmed her mood somewhat, yet she didn’t have to fake a smile as Kamui talked non-stop about the adventures he’d had during the most recent journey through their kingdom.

He finally grew winded and had to take a break by the time the desert of rice-flour dumplings filled with sweet bean paste was served.

Hinoka poured them all a cup from the chilled pot of barely tea, and said, “I’m glad the journey here was so much fun.” _And that no one of tried to attack you because of your clothes and foreign ways._

“Big bro-brother, did you travel the roads alone?” Sakura asked, concern lilting her voice.

Swallowing a mouthful, Kamui replied. “No, Zero was with me every step of the way!”

“Z-Zero?”

“Actually, I really want both of you to meet him. Could I invite him in?”

Hinoka frowned. “Has he been waiting outside this whole time?”

“Eh heh heh… yeah.” Kamui smiled sheepishly. “Lately we haven’t been apart much, but I wasn’t sure…”

It was odd to think there was someone her brother didn’t want to be apart from, some stranger she’d never met— rather than his family. It shouldn’t have soured her mood, but part of her desperately wanted her sole remaining brother to come home… no matter that it was a childish dream. Forcing a smile for his sake, Hinoka said, “Of course Zero’s welcome, please bring him.”

Kamui’s grin was wide and even more excited than the one she’d spied during her coronation as he stood and rushed out into the garden. He was barely off the tatami mats when he brought his fingers up to his mouth and shrilly whistled. A man dropped down from the edge of the tea room’s roof, landing on his feet with a feline grace she’d have expected only from those with Shinobi training. This individual was a foreigner though: his skin dark, hair white, clothing western in style. He was considerably taller than Kamui, though his frame and long limbs lacked the bulk of the Nohrian princes.

Rather than looking to them, the man spoke to her brother with an indolent tone, “Done already, Corrin? You should've paced yourself.”

Kamui laughed, full-bellied and carefree, a sound that sent a pang through her heart. He was nearly starry-eyed as he looked up into that dark face and took hold of the man’s hand. “Come in and meet my sisters!”

As Kamui led him inside, the dark man finally turned towards them revealing one striking blue eye, a conspicuous patch, and a smirking mouth. At a tug against her arm Hinoka glanced and found her younger sister had grabbed her sleeve, holding the edge like a child. Without leaning, Hinoka asked in a whisper, “Sakura, what’s wrong?”

“T-this man, h-he’s the one w-who…” Sakura took a shaky breath, stutter pronounced. “He d-disarmed and b-b-bound me in r-rope when Fort Jinya f-fell.”

Hinoka bristled, sat straighter, and only just keeping herself from glaring as the man sat down beside Kamui with an inappropriate proximity. Her brother’s eyes remained on his companion as he gave introductions, “Hinoka, Sakura, this is the love of my life and husband, Zero. Zero, these are my sisters, Sakura and Hinoka.”

“Charmed,” Zero glanced from Kamui to them and then back, before he drew an arm about her brother’s shoulders and practically snuggled closer.

Kamui beamed with happiness and fell willingly into the embrace, clearly enamored with the man beside him. The tender display caused Hinoka stiff posture to crumble, heart conflicted as she realized _this Nohrian_ was who her brother’s world revolved around. A man who’d marched against Hoshido, a man who’d personally hurt Sakura, was Kamui’s most precious person. It shouldn’t have surprised her. Both of them had wronged her kingdom, harmed her family, and she had every right to hate them… yet Kamui’s happiness she was glad to see.

Hinoka couldn't help it, she loved her brother, but she also couldn't forget he'd had a hand in bringing Hoshido to its knees. Kamui had committed atrocities, and she hated him for it— but her hate didn't overpower her love. Most of all she hated herself for feeling so divided when she'd sworn to give all of herself for her kingdom, when she owed more to her remaining sister. _Selfish, spoiled princess to the end, aren't you, Hinoka?"_

Fixing a smile onto her face, Hinoka set her reservations aside and said, "I welcome you on behalf of the family, Zero. Please take care of Corrin in the coming days."

.xvii.

It was the final day of her coronation celebration. All the feudal lords and many of the western guests had been invited to a grand hunt on forested grounds belonging to the Byakuya family. The trees here grew thick and tall, enough so that riding a mount was difficult because the multitude of low hanging branches and overgrown underbrush. Daylight shone down in dappled shadows through the canopy of leaves, the air smelled loamy and humid. Animals large and small were abundant here, thanks to the gamekeepers. Attendants would deal with the process of hanging and butchering any catches away from the grounds, and then transport the meat and trophies back to the castle. These catches would be prepared and served in an evening feast to formally end the festivities, a visible display of Hoshido’s bounty and its people’s prowess.

Yet it seemed that Hinoka would be unable to participate in the hunt herself, despite having brought a bow and quiver full of arrows. One feudal lord or another would spy her and strike up conversation— as if they weren't in the middle of the wilderness lying in wait for game. Truly, she found it more humorous than frustrating, how suddenly they couldn’t stop talking to her where a little over a year before they would have ignored her entirely. Besides, Hinoka’s heart wasn’t really in this outing. Although she knew how to stalk and down prey it wasn’t a favored pastime, not like it had been for her younger brother. In his youth Takumi would often disappear into the wilderness for days on end, only to return with prize trophies. He was quite accomplished, even the white tiger pelt of his bowman’s uniform had been a catch from one of those hunts. _Takumi would’ve made them take this hunt seriously if he’d been here… I wish he was here._

The Fuujin Yumi hung alongside the quiver at the small of her back, and its presence comforted Hinoka somewhat. She couldn’t use it for the hunt, however, as she had yet to master maintaining the magic of its bowstring, let alone reliably manifest arrows. Instead bamboo arrows and a composite hardwood bow served her needs— that was if she’d got the chance to actually come across prey.

This time when the bush-beaters set out, Kamui loudly announced he'd be helping them and then practically bounded out of sight. After the attendants had disappeared into the underbrush, Hinoka found herself in a rare moment where she stood, not alone, but by herself rather than engaged with a conversation partner. Glancing about she spied the remaining Nohrian royalty standing off a ways, their proximity to her possibly what had driven off the feudal lords. Both of them carried, not bow and arrows, but a set of western style lances which seemed too small and short for effective spearing. _We’re not trying to catch fish, why spears?_

Quickly, disregarding it as foreign peculiarities, Hinoka instead turned her attention to watching the treetops as the bush-beaters below sent all manner of birds into flight. Spying a plump bamboo partridge settling to perch in the branches nearby, she knocked an arrow against the bowstring. She began to draw it back and aim, when an unfamiliar voice broke the quiet.

“Your Eminence!”

It startled her badly enough that her grip of her numb fingers slipped, and the arrow flew far from its mark, causing the partridge to take wing. Cursing under her breath, Hinoka turned towards the caller. It was a young man, likely the youngest member of the hunting party, the richness of his clothing designating him a lord’s son. His height matched her own, his jawline had boyish curve, his auburn hair was gathered in a high tail— the familiar style sent a pang of nostalgia through her. Despite his earlier, loud call, he stood at a distance and appeared to have some sense of deference.

After taking a breath and composing herself, she said, “You may approach.”

Without delay, the youth came to stand beside her with a low bow. “Queen Hinoka, thank you for honoring the Suruga family by inviting not only my lord father but also myself.”

Hinoka nodded once. “You’re welcome, Lord Fuyuuji. Your father told me you’ve already caught a brace of hares.”

“Yes, I got them after we first arrived. I’d hoped to down bigger game, but…” He frowned in exasperation. “Those blond ruffians stomp around and scare everything off.”

 _You’re the one shouting._ Hinoka glanced at said blonds, unsure whether they were out of earshot, then carefully worded her reply, “On behalf of my western guests I ask for patience. I’ve believe hunts in Nohr involve horses and hounds, so must be a fair bit noisier.”

“You need not excuse them, Your Eminence. The Lords are at fault for allowing Nohrian filth to pollute your presence.”

Hinoka felt herself balking at the blatant bigotry and, if the boy’s expression was anything to go by, her reaction confused him. It seemed Fuyuske had held back on his true opinions during their meeting. Straightened her back and summoned authority into her voice as Hinoka said, “Suruga Fuyuuji, do not insult my guests. They are here at the Queen’s invitation and the Lords have no say in whom I permit into my presence.” She paused to let that sink in, then spoke even louder. “King Marx is an ally and only the ill-bred speak of Hoshido’s friends with disrespect.”

At her declaration Fuyuuji’s expression became mutinous, but he gave no argument as he bowed his head and muttered an apology for his presumption. She wanted to extend grace since he was young, yet part of her also dreaded the potential trouble he could stir up if left uncorrected. While thinking on the matter an abrupt flutter of wings had her whipping around and spotting a male pheasant, head iridescent green with a ring of white. Quickly as she could Hinoka knocked an arrow, drew the string, and fired. The shot went wide, but the bird was still in range. Focusing on controlling the movements of her numb hands, she took more careful aim and loosed— this time hitting her mark. She felt a small thrill of accomplishment as the pheasant gave a cry, struggling with one good wing as it fell to the ground some paces from her.

“My liege, allow me to retrieve that.” Without waiting for a reply, Fuyuuji went towards the fallen bird with a knife at the ready.

Relieved to have him distracted, Hinoka risked a glance and felt herself tense up as she found both Nohrian men’s gazes fixed upon her. _Did they hear Fuyuuji and I earlier? But if I ask and they hadn’t, that could be its own incident…_ The thought left her torn, uncomfortable not knowing and yet unwilling to act heedlessly. She’d never felt so indecisive. If anything, Hinoka hadn't usually stopped to think her actions through, instead reacting with her gut or feelings… yet now that she was queen, it felt like all she did was overthink things.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, her staring seemed to have been taken as an invitation. Marx approached her, moving like a gilded shadow in the dark leathers of his hunting outfit. The entire forest seemed to shake with his heavy presence— only a thunderous crack and groan had her looking away and realizing trees were actually falling. Something was crashing their way, huge enough that she felt the earth quake beneath her feet. Hinoka drew an arrow from the quiver but before she could lift it blurred shapes burst through the underbrush and trees. It was a herd of boars, running with frenzied speed from a pursuer— silver, black, and blue with a gleaming pair of forked horns. Kamui was chasing the animals in his dragon form.

The bow and arrow fell from her hands as Hinoka was forced to leap and roll out of their path, and more than once. Shouts of alarm resounded in her ears as the stampeding boars overran the clearing. Managing to find a large enough tree, she climbed up onto a bough and was finally able to catch her breath. Looking around she saw chaos, although individuals like Prince Leo and Lord Suruga appeared to be standing their ground. That had her searching for the young lordling and growing alarmed when she couldn’t find him.

“Fuyuuji, Fuyuuji?” Hinoka called out, leaning her weight against the tree’s trunk as she rose to her feet for a better view.

She spied the downed pheasant and from there tracked the trampled underbrush— which ended at two prone forms, one in dark leathers. _They’re not moving! I need to get down there._ Heart leaping into her throat, Hinoka dropped down and landed back onto the ground. Dodging stray boars, she rushed over and called out, “Fuyuuji! King Marx!”

A groan answered her as she crouched low, grabbed the Nohrian by the shoulder and shook. Marx stirred with her prodding and cast her an unfocused glance. “Nnng… Hinoka, wha…?”

“Is Fuyuuji alright?”

“…the boy?”

Hooking her hands under his arm, Hinoka helped Marx to roll onto his back. Despite all the shifting Fuyuuji laid still, a cut on his forehead bleeding freely. She held two fingers over his mouth and sent the gods a prayer of thanks as she felt steady exhales of breath. The racing of her heart began to calm with the realization, and she sat back on her heels.

Marx spoke up, “Is he…?”

“He’s alive, although unconscious.” Hinoka gnawed her lip before asking, “Marx, did you save him?”

Those dark eyes were clearer than they had been a moment ago. “I just… pulled him out of the herd’s way. Are you hurt, Hinoka?”

“No, I’m fine,” she assured. Glancing over Marx, she found his clothing tattered in some places and suspected he hadn’t entirely evaded the boars’ goring tusks. “A healer should look at the both of you.”

Surprisingly, he didn’t argue, just heaved a put-upon sigh. Marx then got to his elbows and pushed himself up, one hand rising to press against the side of his face. The motion had the looking at the mussed curls atop his head— and the absence of a crown. Not mentioning it, Hinoka frantically glanced about, and by divine mercy spied the ornament caught in nearby ferns fronds. The Nohrian was in a sitting position when she turned back and handed over the crown, his eyes went comically wide as his raised hand went higher to touch his crownless head. He murmured thanks as he slid the blackened metal back into place, red jewel glinting in the dappled sunlight.

“Thank you, for saving him.” Hinoka said quietly, not looking at him. She was almost unsettled by vulnerability Marx had just shown her. That combined with his heroic actions had eclipsed her usual bitterness with softer emotions, ones she didn’t really want directed at this man.

Luckily a distraction came: voices echoed through the clearing.

“We are all in danger with Nohrians and their monsters here!” Shouted a voice suspiciously like Lord Suruga’s.

“You dare call Prince Corrin, the son of your precious Queen Mikoto, a monster?” This one she knew belonged to Prince Leo, even snarling as he was.

“Wait, everyone,” Kamui pleaded, “This is my fault. Please don’t fight-”

“What else can he be called? No human can take such a shape to sew destruction!”

More voices joined in and reduced the argument to a nonsensical din.

A large hand settled upon her arm. Hinoka flinched at the sudden physical contact but finding that it was Marx made no move to ward him off. Dark eyes caught hers, his sharply perceptive gaze having returned alongside his usual frown. “Help me to stand and we can carry the boy together. I’ll handle my brothers.”

 _I’ll have to take care of the rest._ Sighing, Hinoka nodded and did just that. It was easy to ignore the churn of emotions within her as she hefted Fuyuuji up and formulated a plan to smooth the feudal lords’ ruffled feathers.

.xviii.

Although no one had been seriously hurt the atmosphere at the feast had been tense and uncomfortable, bad feelings over the incident during the hunt were clearly unresolved. Hinoka had attempted a few conversations involving both feudal lords and the Nohrian guests, but they’d all ended prematurely into charged silences. While no one had outright attacked each other, they’d clearly been contemplating it— and once the meal was over Hinoka had felt too exhausted to do more than collapse on her futon.

The following morning, she didn’t dare refuse Marx’s last-minute request for a meeting. They met in a small room on the castle’s ground floor, one not so much meant for entertaining but if one should desire a little privacy. No drink or food were set out, as the Nohrian king intended to join his entourage in the courtyard and leave the moment their conversation ended.

Yukimura stood by the closed door as across from her, Marx lowered himself onto a cushion and wasted no times with pleasantries. “I have a request… no, a confession as it were.” He paused with a side-long look, only continuing after she’d motioned for him to continue. “Shirasagi castle’s throne room was the last place I laid eyes upon my wife. During the battle she went missing, and although Corrin swears to have seen her near Windmire… I’m more convinced she might be somewhere here in Hoshido. Queen Hinoka, I promise to grant one favor, anything you ask, should you agree to help me search.”

Since the moment he’d stepped into the room, Hinoka had composed her face for careful neutrality. It’d been a struggle to maintain as he’d made his request and spilled secrets. Marx had a wife, though if Yukimura’s information was correct that was to be expected— King Garon’d had two queens and many concubines during his lifetime. It seemed the highborn families of Nohr took multiple spouses as a matter of course, choosing heirs from the resulting children based on merit rather than according to birth order or gender. Marx didn’t appear to be a young man, so he likely had already filled his royal seraglio. _No wonder he’s been so friendly with me. Probably used to women throwing themselves at his feet._

Hiding a scowl, Hinoka said, “That all occurred months ago, do you really think a Nohrian woman would’ve remained anonymous in my kingdom if she was alive?”

“…for the sake of my sons, I need to think so.” Marx’s brow furrowed low and his shoulders drew tense, as if determined not to be dissuaded from his hopes.

Hinoka held in a sigh and acquiesced, “I’d rather it be my people conducting this search, so very well.”

“You have my thanks.”

“What does your wife look like, King Marx?”

He described a woman who was quiet, almost melancholy, but insightful when she chose to share her thoughts. Fair of face, slender of body, lithe of limb, who moved with an inherent grace. Skin a tanned olive, eyes yellow as sunflower petals, with hair long enough to reach her ankles of a pale blue like a cloudless sky.

“W-wait, this is-” Hinoka blurted out, mind racing. “Is your wife’s name Aqua?”

“Yes, we married during the campaign.” Marx’s brow pinched with what might’ve been confusion. “Do you know Aqua?”

Hinoka nodded, crown wobbling with the movement, excitement getting the better of her. “Of course, we grew up together! Aqua was like a sister to me.”

“…really?” His tone was both doubtful and suspicious.

It smarted her pride, so she explained, “Yes, _really,_ she lived here in Shirasagi castle-”

“As a political prisoner,” he cut in, brazenly.

She reared back. “W-what!? How dare-”

Marx’s sent her a look that chased Hinoka’s protests off her tongue, and it took everything she had not to shrink in the face of his anger.

“Aqua had been a princess of Nohr, daughter of my father’s second wife and queen, Shenmei. She was stolen from Krackenburg castle while we were both still children, taken by what I can only assume were Hoshidan agents.” The tone of his voice was cold and cutting, the glare of those dark eyes ferocious. “I remember how shocked I was when I found that she hadn’t been killed because my father refused to pay ransom, but rather had been alive all this time. Kept as secretly as you resent us for guarding Corrin. With how she’d defected to Nohr during the war, why wouldn’t I assume Aqua had been kept in Hoshido against her will?”

His words dredged up memories. That time in the Sevenfold Sanctuary when Hinoka had recognized Aqua among the throng of enemies and called out to her, promising protection from the Nohrians and safe passage home. Yet Aqua had spurned her offer, had turned away from Hoshido— apparently to instead lie in this man’s arms. The realization hurt as much now as her rejection had then.

 _How dare this Nohrian judge after taking away so many precious to me._ Lit by the fire of her anger, Hinoka regained her voice and held fast to the sliver of remaining patience. “Aqua wasn’t a locked away in chains. Our queen treated her as well as a daughter, as a Hoshidan princess. She would’ve still been here if Mikoto hadn’t been assassinated.” _Because of Kamui and that sword._

“Aqua was wrongly taken,” Marx argued, seemingly unimpressed by her rebuttal.

An angry flush rose in her face and Hinoka shouted, “King Garon started it when he murdered _my father_ and kidnapped Kamui!”

Breathing hard they glared at one another, eyes sharp and tempers high. She resented the man across from her, envied that he’d gained everything she’d lost. Nohr had taken and taken, and it had her despairing, _How can I stop them from taking everything?_ Hinoka might’ve given into the anger and despair, losing all composure and destroying what progress had been made between herself and Marx— if Yukimura hadn’t loudly cleared his throat.

The abrupt noise caught both of their attentions and snapped her out of the spiraling thoughts. Hoshido couldn’t afford another war. _I can’t lose it like this._ Inhaling deeply, she glanced away from the infuriating man to try and center herself. Glancing down she found that she’d clenched her hands hard enough that her fingernails had dug into the flesh of her palms and drawn blood.

Once she no longer wanted to claw out Marx’s eyes, Hinoka met his gaze again. “My people will search for Aqua and I will share the reports with you. In exchange you owe me that promised favor and one more thing.”

His dark eyes narrowed. “The agreement was _one_ favor-”

“You mentioned sons,” Hinoka interrupted, determined to have her way. “I want to meet Aqua’s children.”

He stared at her and she stared back, neither of them wavering. Some time during the argument they’d leaned towards each other, not inappropriately close but both posturing. She could see the anger still smoldering in his eyes, Marx’s countenance was all drawn and pinched with it— a far cry from his usual stony mask. Hinoka felt the hot blush in her cheeks and knew she couldn’t look much better, hardly regal or elegant. Yet in that moment they were both being honest, with their feelings rather than words.

A tension in the air seemed to break when he finally spoke. “…very well. My brother Leo’s wedding shall be held in Windmire this autumn season, and should you attend I’ll also arrange the requested meeting.” With that Marx stood, not waiting for a dismissal. However, when he reached the door, held open by her adviser, rather than storming through he looked over his shoulder at her. “This invitation would’ve been extended regardless, Queen Hinoka. Despite the difficulties between our kingdoms and families, I’d rather we not be at odds.”

There was something off about his tone, but Marx was out the doorway before Hinoka could ask anything further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the biggest past relationship: Marx/Aqua.  
> We who’ve played the game to completion are aware of Aqua’s ultimate fate in Conquest… but unlike Birthright it seems like the majority of the cast remains in the dark. The idea of Aqua’s CQ!husband not knowing where she went or why she disappeared has always tickled my brain, so I decided go to with maximum angst and give this role to extreme worrier Marx. That being said, although we readers are aware that Marx is actually currently a widower, the characters do not and there WILL be a full-fledged romantic relationship between him and Hinoka in later chapters. I completely understand if this affair-like context turns readers off, although I can promise all the messy feelings around it will be addressed rather than ignored.
> 
> Zero/Corrin will also be very much a background ship rather than a focus within the plot, which is true for most things having to do with Corrin in this fic.


	7. Belly Full of Worries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor has Hinoka thinking about family legacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 7 warnings: mentions of sickness and medical treatment, mentioned character death, period typical attitudes concerning marriage, referenced pregnancy and child birth, legitimacy issues, sexist gender roles, generational expectations, thoughts of violence, oodles of survivor's guilt.

.xix.

Upon the castle physician’s report that Kou had made a full recovery from the lingering cough, Hinoka skipped a day of archery practice to make a visit in-person. Shinobi were provided rooms among the servants’ quarters, although their true service to the crown was a well-kept secret from the rest of the castle staff. Despite dressing down for the occasion, everyone she passed in the corridors stopped to bow to her lower, than they ever had in years past. Hinoka’s due as queen, even if she felt unworthy still. It was rather a relief when she reached the open doorway to Kou’s room— but was brought short at the sight of a woman and small child.

The woman was young, pretty, wore high-quality robes and ornaments. The brown of her hair was a common color, style in a simple bun despite many flyaway strands, and Hinoka didn’t recognize her face. She likely belonged to a noble family from the perfect posture of her seiza. Across from her Kou sat cross-legged, hands steadying the baby settled upon his lap.

The moment Hinoka had stepped within view through the doorway, however, Kou turned to look— he immediately tucked the babe into the crook of one arm then got on his knees and bowed to her. The woman sitting across from him gave a soft gasp and then followed suit. Hinoka couldn’t have felt more like an intruder if she’d tried.

Swallowing her unease, she put on a smile. “Please, raise your heads. I merely wanted to inquire about your health, Kou, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Your Eminence is most generous for sparing your concern for this one,” Kou said, slowly sitting back upright. “Be assured, your presence is an honor.”

Surprisingly, the child hadn’t fussed during the sudden dip or rise, simply sucked on his own tiny fingers and stared. Hinoka was struck by how Kou and the child looked so similar: the same dark hair, the same narrow eyes, the same pouty mouth. A blood-relation was obvious, it seemed family had come to visit.

While the urge to immediately turn and leave struck, she couldn’t. Yet she also didn’t want to impose more than was necessary. Weighing her options, Hinoka asked, “Who are your visitors?”

“Lord Hisame,” Kou lightly bounced the babe wrapped in his arm, then motioned with his free hand to the woman. “And Lady Chisake of the honorable Gorobei family. Her father, Heihachi, currently presides as patriarch.”

Chisake blushed, perhaps at the sudden attention, and dipped her head. “Good health and long life to you, Queen Hinoka. My cousin Hinata had the honor of serving the crown personally, and my family hopes we can continue to protect the kingdom.”

Hinoka had to keep from jolting with recognition. Hinata had been a youthful samurai who’d served as one of Takumi’s retainers. Her memories of the young man were of wild licks of hair, enthused grins, and free laughter— something now lost to time. He had fallen in the defense of Wall Susanoo, one of the many lives lost. Just as the Okazaki had lost a daughter, so the Gorobei had given up a son.

It seemed that everyone Hinoka met had sacrificed for the sake of her family. _Why did the gods spare me and claim so many others?_ Maintaining her smile was a strain, but Hinoka managed as she said, “The Gorobei have Hoshido’s gratitude for their long service and loyalty, Lady Chisake. I’m glad to have the support in the days ahead.”

“Assuredly, Your Eminence,” the nervousness in Chisake’s expression softened somewhat, one hand darting up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Abruptly, Kou stifled a cough and as he cleared his throat with a rattling noise in his lap Hisame wriggled and began to fuss. Shifting into a kneel, Chisake shuffled over. The woman murmured something so quietly that Hinoka couldn’t make out her words, and Kou handed her the baby without a word.

Chisake then shifted to face Hinoka, yet kept her eyes politely averted. “If it is not impudent of me, I ask that we not take up any more of Your Eminence’s time.”

For a moment Hinoka couldn’t parse what she meant by the last statement, then inwardly cursed herself for not instantly recognizing a mannerly request for permission to leave. _No one can come or go without my say so, what a hassel._ Stepping back from the doorway, Hinoka kept her tone even as she said, “Yes, the day has only started. Please freely go about your business.”

Chisake dipped her head then rose to her feet, and Kou stood alongside her. Tiny Hisame continued to make unhappy noises. With the fussing baby held to her chest, the noblewoman passed through the doorway and briskly walked down the hall.

Once they were out of sight Hinoka turned back to the shinobi, not bothering to hide her dismay. “The healers told me you’d recovered.”

“I’m no longer ill thanks to your medicine, Your Eminence. It’s simply…” Kou inhaled deeply, and Hinoka could hear the stretch of it. “All my life I’ve had breathing troubles. Please don’t concern yourself with this further.”

Hinoka bit back a frown, wondering how Ryouma dealt with situations like this— expressing concern for an agent who’d insist they didn’t merit it. She knew he’d been close to both Kagerou and Saizou, who’d served him for years, though the separation of status and roles had likely never disappeared. _Why’s it easier for someone who’s pledged their life to me to be sent out to die than letting me help them live?_

Noting Kou hadn’t looked away from her all this time, Hinoka made herself smile again. “Regardless, my apologies for interrupting with your wife and child’s visit.”

“No need to apologize, my liege. Chisake and I are not wed or courting, and neither is Hisame my son. She merely indulged my request and brought the boy to visit.”

“Truly? He looks so much like you!”

While his expression didn’t change, there was a noticeable hesitation before Kou replied, “…it is a resemblance to Kagerou. She birthed him in the autumn before the war began.”

“Kagerou’s son,” she blinked with surprise.

Hinoka hadn’t known the kunoichi had been in a relationship, let alone had children. Yet thinking on it, there she had been scarce for a couple seasons back then— apparently because of pregnancy and the delivery. For such a dedicated retainer, it seemed almost scandalous.

“How come Hisame isn’t living with the Okazaki clan in Igasato?”

“It was all kept secret. My sister intended never to marry, so she decided the child belonged with his father’s family.” Kou finally broke eye contact, gaze falling to the floor. “Perhaps it was providence. With both Lord Hinata and Lord Hisayo having passed on, it will fall to Hisame to learn the furious blade technique and keep the Gorobei’s tradition alive.”

Hinoka tucked her lip between her teeth to keep from scoffing aloud. It seemed ridiculous to put such weighty expectations on a baby, yet everything Kou’d said would be the expectations Hisame would grow up surrounded by. It was something she was discovering all too well, having flouted so many as princess only to now have it all crash onto her shoulders. Sakura and herself were the only ones left to carry on the Hotoke’s legacy.

It was almost enough to have her wish that Ryouma or Takumi had a secret love-child to take the throne instead… except she wouldn’t want to burden an innocent in that way. Even the thought of a piece of her brothers having survived made Hinoka’s heart ache. It was foolishness as neither of them had been feckless enough to leave bastards, although Takumi had begun courting his own female retainer in the final days of the war. None of them had married, and there were no secret children to ferret out. _Ryouma, Takumi, you should’ve had long, full lives. I’m sorry I’m here in your place._

With a shaky exhale Hinoka shoved such thoughts to the back of her mind and regathered her composure. She found the shinobi watching her once more, so launched into the other reason for her visit. “Kou, once you are fully recovered I have a task for you. Do you remember the Nohrian princess, Aqua? I need a squad to be gathered and search for any sign of her within Hoshido.”

.xx.

Autumn was Hinoka's favorite season, a time for harvest— for bounty and togetherness. When the maple leaves turned as red as her hair. Yet this year with so many gone, she felt the diminishing warmth in the air all the more keenly.

As much as she wanted to remain at home, her bargain with the Nohrian king hung over her head like a dark storm cloud. Once the formal invitation had arrived, swirling ink on folded parchment sealed by wax, she managed to convince Yukimura of the necessity for her to pay a visit to Nohr’s capital city. Yet when Hinoka insisted on traveling with a proper entourage, her advisor’s distrust of the western kingdom came out in full force.

“It’s not safe to stay overlong. My liege why can’t your visit be brief as with Nohr’s coronation?”

 _Who’s the one needing remedial etiquette classes?_ Hinoka held in a sigh. “You know why, Yukimura. King Marx and Nohr’s princes stayed here in Shirasagi for an entire week. If I don’t stay in Krackenburg castle for a few days at least, it’d reflect badly on the state of our alliance. I’m not thrilled about it either, but you’re always telling me how appearances must be maintained.”

Her advisor’s eyes closed as if he was pained, and he likely was, holding back a lengthy list of why this was a terrible idea. When Yukimura opened them, his face was serious as he said, “If I cannot change your mind, then I must insist that the High Princess not accompany you.”

“Yukimura, really, we won’t be gone that long. You’ve managed in our absence before.”

He shook his head, expression resolute. “No, Queen Hinoka. I cannot in good conscious approve of both surviving members of the Byakuya family to march into Nohrian territory and stay behind enemy lines. It’s too great a risk!”

Hinoka stared at him and he stared back, the specter of Sumeragi’s mistake hanging between them. Her father hadn’t been the only life taken by King Garon’s ambush, most of the Hoshidan entourage traveling with him had fought and died. It’d been considered a godsend that Saizou IV had managed to escape with Ryouma and his own sons. A dark day that few had the courage to speak of… yet it was the very same sticking point Yukimura had argued with for their previous trip to Windmire.

“Yukimura, I’m not blindly trusting anyone.” Hinoka sighed aloud, tired of talking in circles. “Can I even change your mind?”

“If Princess Sakura wasn’t the sole heir, if you’d borne a child, I might consider it-”

Hinoka’s heart leapt into a gallop, the sound of her heartbeat muffling the rest of his words. A child. He’d finally admitted that she’d been avoiding her royal duty— to bear heirs for the Hoshidan throne. It didn’t matter that she was still struggling to come to terms with her position, with loss. Princes were raised to rule, while the foremost concern for princesses were arrangements of marriage. There was only one way for the bloodline to be passed on.

 _I’m a woman, it’s all they want from me._ The inevitability of it, the reinforcement of how only one thing was expected from her made Hinoka’s entire body feel numb, almost as if she’d been hollowed out. She felt suddenly small and powerless, like she had as a child hearing that her father had been murdered and baby brother stolen— only this time, she didn’t know what to fight. Meekly, she gave into Yukimura’s demands, quietly allowing him to handle the city’s matters while she prepared for the journey with Miyokichi’s assistance.

A few days later, Hinoka and her small entourage exchanged farewell at Shirasagi’s gates. Ever the healer, Sakura handed her a small bag of cloves to ward off seasonal illness and Hinoka tucked it close to her heart. While no longer feeling hollow, the mood for quiet contemplation had remained all that time. This separation, temporary though it may be, had her voicing one of those thoughts a loud, “Sakura, thank you for staying in the castle while I’m gone… I know you’d rather be in the countryside helping reconstruction.”

Amber eyes grew wide and her sister’s fingers began to fret. Even her stutter was pronounced, “H-h-how d-did you k-know?”

“Now that I’m queen, people can’t seem to keep their lips sealed.” Hinoka attempted to jest, but saw she’d missed the mark by her sister’s continued anxiety. “I’m not upset. It’s a good idea. If you can wait until the spring planting you have my blessing to take Lady Kazahana and go journeying.”

Sakura abruptly blinked against tears, her mouth curving into a bright smile. “Big Sis-sister, t-thank you.”

The assurance of her sister’s happiness kept Hinoka warm all the way to Nohr.

.xxi.

In Nohr there was already a chill in the air that promised winter, even in the season’s early days. Its trees were either spiny things with leaves thin as needles that never lost their green or had limbs already bare and colored the land in grays. With the slower pace required traveling with an entourage, Hinoka spent long stretches taking in the bleak, alien landscapes.

When they arrived at the gates of Windmire it was Prince Leo, alongside a small contingent, who met and escorted them. Her golden kite proved too aggressive to ride beside his horse, so they'd both handed off their mounts. Instead riding in a horse-drawn carriage through the Nohrian streets while the guard and servants followed a ways behind. While Hinoka wasn't precisely comfortable sitting in such close quarters, the Fuujin Yumi set across her lap comforted her enough to mask such feelings— even wrapped in a protective cloth, her numb fingers felt faint echoes of its song.

The covered divine weapon, however, seemed to have also caught the Nohrian's eye. His mouth pulled into a tight line and his gaze grew increasingly sharp. Finally, he asked, "Is that the bow your younger brother wielded?"

After checking that her hands hadn't reflexively clenched, Hinoka nodded. "Takumi did, yes."

"He used it against my little sister, Elise."

Hinoka grew tense, unsure if he was fishing for an apology. Instead she said, "It is a tool of war."

Prince Leo's lips pulled into a frown, his gaze lifting to her face. "We'd appreciate it if you would not openly brandish that bow during your stay here."

That had Hinoka frowning in turn. "Prince Leo, are you saying I'd be so ill-mannered as to attack against my hosts or fellow guests?"

"Prince Takumi fired arrows during parlay against unarmed persons. King Ryouma laid an ambush and denied the ill access to medical supplies.” Hinoka inhaled sharply at the slander towards her brothers, but the Nohrian’s expression grew haughty as he continued, “Your lords unrepentantly insulted Corrin and ‘fellow guests’. Hoshidan honor is rather lacking from what I've observed."

"You're certainly just as eager to hurl insults!"

"Just speaking my mind." Prince Leo leaned towards her, clearly attempting to intimidate or put her on edge. “If you’d prefer to turn around and leave, I’ve no objections.”

The opportunity was tempting. Hop on her golden kite and fly until gray became green. Yet if she left now without even having seen Marx, she’d likely never get to meet Aqua’s children. _She’s my sister, I need to make sure they’re alright._

With that goal in mind, Hinoka tipped her chin and silently stared the Nohrian down. His dark eyes narrowed, but Prince Leo didn’t budge. They sat like that, on the edge of their seats locked in a battle of wills. It went on long enough that an uncomfortable tension gathered in her muscles and a headache built behind her eyes. Bitter sentiments seeped into her thoughts, _So arrogant. He’s confident I won’t just punch his throat in. But this close it’d be easy-_

The carriage abruptly lurched to a halt, forcing Hinoka to catch the edge of the seat to stay upright. Prince Leo was out of his seat and opening the door before she could relax her grip. With sharp movements he offered his hand to assist her down, and biting her cheek, Hinoka placed her numb hand in his. The moment her feet were solidly on the ground, she yanked her hand back.

The Nohrian sent her an unimpressed look, but his tone was mild as he said, "I'm afraid King Marx and I will be busy with duties. For the remainder of your stay, the Princess Consort will see to your needs.” A sly sort of smile crept over his face as he gave an insultingly shallow bow, “Queen Hinoka, good day."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BtS is back! A big thanks to everyone who commented during the hiatus, kept me thinking about this. Can’t promise weekly updates, but I’ll be working on this fic again. 
> 
> Another side ship: Hinata/Kaergou, very much "past" because both are deceased. Kagerou's epilogues always mention her [continuing to serve as a ninja](http://aphonicdreams.tumblr.com/post/126373110982/hoshido-epilogue-translations), and the [English translation even added](https://pastebin.com/TEkTbUTq) the statement "didn't have much time together" to her married epilogue. So the idea of her having a child out of wedlock and being more career-minded didn't seem too out of character. Although Hisame's an exception in the case of dead parents; Asugi, Shiro, and Kiragi don't exist in this particular fic verse. (I likely wouldn't have made the exception [except their extreme resemblance](http://damoselcastel.tumblr.com/post/176675684971/ill-never-get-over-how-much-hisame-resembles))
> 
> Sakura's desire to travel was [brought up back in Chapter 3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480463/chapters/33837084),
> 
> The incidents of dishonorable behavior Leo mentions are from the intro of [Conquest's chapter 13](https://youtu.be/AeiJoFrbTGk?t=7m26s), the intro of [Conquest's chapter 12](https://youtu.be/7qH3iu9mTcY?t=5m45s), and [chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14480463/chapters/34538510) of this fic. For the incidents with Takumi and Ryouma I figure Zero would've reported everything he'd witnessed, and I can't imagine it'd make Leo feel generous or forgiving. Leo's line "just speaking my mind" was taken from [his first interaction with Hinoka in the Japanese script of Revelation](https://youtu.be/9INscjEtRC8?t=23m1s).


	8. Midnight Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka’s stay in Nohr begins as well as expected, that is to say, not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 8 warnings: insults and gossip, references to cheating, bigotry and racism, physical pain and discomfort, medical treatment, unwanted advances and sexual propositions, cross-dressing, unknowing misgendering

.xxii.

Her designated keeper for the duration of their stay at Krackenburg castle was neither Princess Camilla nor Princess Elise, but instead a woman Hinoka couldn’t recall having encountered before. Although she was unmistakably Nohrian: yellow curly hair, round blue eyes, a curvaceous yet toned body, and clothing that daringly put on it display. Yet what had Hinoka staring were the many twisted, golden ropes that held sparkling stones against her wrists, fingers, and neck. She appeared to be wearing a small fortune.

“Queen Hinoka, it’s an honor to make your acquaintance.” The buxom blonde woman dipped into the western style of bow known as a curtsy. “I am Charlotte, Crown Prince Leo’s first wife.”

Without hesitation Hinoka returned the mannerly introduction, once courtesies had been exchanged the royal consort guided herself and most important vassals to the guest suite. With the excuse that the Hoshidan entourage needed time to get settled Hinoka was able to avoid any further ‘entertainments’ for the night, too certain that her composure would combust if faced with the Nohrian Crown Prince before she could decompress.

However, bright and early the following morning the royal consort appeared again, and this time insisted on giving her a tour of the castle— alone.

“Just the two of us. I’ve a surprise at the end,” Charlotte said with a coy wink. Her voice was high and girlish, and held an accent noticeably different from that of the Nohrian royalty. The Nohrian style gown she wore was just as extravagant as yesterday’s: blue satin brocade, full-skirted, with a daringly low neckline that displayed the cleavage of her generously endowed breasts. Despite her decadent ensemble there was something almost artificial about her demeanor, Hinoka suspected she was purposefully putting on airs.

 _Careful her surprise isn’t a lethal one,_ said a voice suspiciously close to Yukimura’s in her head. Yet she didn’t voice aloud such suspicions, instead allowing Charlotte to drag her down one hall into a room back out and then up the next. Although the Nohrian woman was noticeably taller than Hinoka, her steps were dainty enough that they kept pace with one another. Hinoka gave harmless compliments and made innocuous observations over the visited locations, which Charlotte elaborated upon in kind.

Hinoka was beginning to feel the strain that always followed keeping up appearances for extended periods, when the royal consort led her outside the castle’s halls and into an interior open space. Thankfully they didn’t dither at every bit of greenery, instead Charlotte walked them straight to a curious building made of metal and glass. She motioned to it with a toss of her long, blond curls, “I wanted to show you the inner courtyard’s crown jewel, Anya I’s rosarium! So I’ve arranged for us to have a little picnic here.”

Inside the air was markedly warmer and smelled of a loamy sort of humidity, which explained the condensation that caused the glass to be opaque. It was also unsettlingly quiet inside the rosarium. There were no breezes to rustle the leaves, and the hanging anima lanterns did not crackle as burning illumination did. The quiet amplified the rustle of their clothing, crunch of dirt underfoot, and mutual sounds of their breathing as they moved further in.

Flowers filled the grounds inside this glass structure. Most had lush petals that were a blood red or brackish purple, and as they went deeper their spicy-sweet smell filled the air. Finally, Charlotte stopped them beside a large square of checkered cloth was spread out over what would otherwise have been an empty patch of soil. The far edge of it was already occupied by all manner of food-laden trays and western tea implements, but enough remained for both of them to sit down comfortably. On the ground, the flowering bushes rose up and blocked any other view. The air was too still. The sweet, floral scent overwhelmed now, almost choking Hinoka.

The ache in her head that'd started during the carriage ride had survived the night and built into a pressure in her temples, as if an invisible vise was squeezing her. She'd ignored it for most of the tour, but something about the flower's overpowering smell seemed to amplify it and had her stomach roiling. Fighting down nausea, Hinoka declined the western confections and snacks instead occupying both her numb hands with examining the strangely shaped cup meant for tea. She only relinquished it back to the saucer when Charlotte lifted bizarrely stretched western teapot in offering. The liquid that streamed from its spout into the cup looked black as pitch, its aroma far from the blends Hinoka had grown up with. At the thought of ingesting it her gut felt sour, yet she forced herself to keep decorum and reached for the cup.

“Careful, it’ll be hot.” Charlotte’s words had Hinoka pulling back, having forgotten that her hands couldn’t feel the difference. That hesitation apparently made the Nohrian assume she wanted something more, as she picked up one of the dishes full of tiny cubes. “Would you care for one lump or two?”

“What do you mean?”

“Sugar for your tea.”

“I don’t drink tea with sugar.”

“Very well. Cream?”

Hinoka’s brow rose, wondering if the insult was intentional. “Hoshidans can’t drink milk.”

Charlotte abruptly slammed the sugar dish against the cloth, with enough force to make everything nearby clatter. The girlish delicacy in her voice broke as she shouted, “Well how was I supposed to know?! I gotta be decent hostess, but there’s no record of a friendly interaction with you people. Not one meal!” She huffed a dramatically and crossed her arms. “I’m trying my best, but there’s only so much to work with.”

The look the Charlotte gave Hinoka was an outright glare and an ugly one, her otherwise pretty features twisted up with ire. The expression was so exasperated and judgmental despite her having just acted more like an ill-bred fishwife than a prince’s consort, that it was fundamentally absurd. A laugh burst out of Hinoka and suddenly she couldn’t stop, whatever decorum she’d held before crumbled into mirth. It was several long moments before she regathered her composure and looked to her host.

Charlotte was staring wide-eyed, her pale complexion looking almost washed out. When their gazes met, the royal consort abruptly dropped hers and shakily said, “A-apologies for my outburst, Queen Hinoka. It was un-uncouth and I… I-” She abruptly swallowed, and tears formed at the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m terrible at this! Leo’s gonna be so mad at me,” her last words came out in piteous cry.

 _Another undignified outburst, but she’s genuine right now…if only we could stay so honest._ Hinoka fought a smile, feeling a strange affinity with this woman in the moment. Although her headache hadn’t abated, humor had lightened her mood significantly. “Princess Consort Charlotte, I accept your apology and hold no offense.”

“…really?” Charlotte wiped at her dewy eyes with almost violent swipes of a frilly handkerchief.

“Really. I appreciate your candor and… etiquette isn’t everything.” She decided to offer a little honesty of her own. “Right now I don’t have much of an appetite, perhaps we could just talk?”

“Yes, of course!” She nodded eagerly, the practiced smile back on her painted lips.

Their conversation began innocuously enough, inquiries about the journey and harmless impressions concerning Nohr’s countryside. Charlotte had some surprisingly practical opinions about the road and how they needed to be kept up, sounding military in the way she described the uses for fast travel. Hinoka stored the curiosity away for later use and then steered the conversation to the event at hand: the impending nuptials.

On this subject Charlotte’s smile became overly-saccharine, and the way she gushed about the decorations and banquet was almost too enthusiastic. Yet there were moments she spotted her jaw clenching tight, in what must’ve been grit teeth. _Is this what’s expected of Nohrian wives when their husband takes another bride? Not just to bear it but also grin?_ Hinoka couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what her blood mother had done when Sumeragi had broken faith and taken Mikoto as his second wife. Had Ikona smiled despite feeling everything but happiness?

It was cruel to dig further, but a vindictive part of Hinoka was reassured by knowing she wasn’t the only one suffering a gilded cage. So she asked, “Do you and Prince Leo have children?”

“Yes, we-” Charlotte stopped short, momentarily looking alarmed before saccharinely smiling. “We have been considering it. But it’s been so hectic, what with my restaffing the castle and his time away from home. It’s made him so cranky, he needs to be put to bed.” She finished with a suggestive giggle.

The image painted itself in her mind’s eye, and Hinoka had to hold back her distaste. Instead, she verbally jabbed at a different sore spot, “How do you feel about Prince Leo taking another wife?”

Charlotte didn’t hold back her frown this time. Sniffing loudly, before answering, “If you’re asking if I’m jealous, I’m not. My family’s well provided for and I’ve no reason to doubt Leo’s affections… ours was a love match.”

It was a pointed statement. One that showcased how flimsily the royal consort constructed her lies. As well as asserting the strange idea that a royal prince had the freedom to choose who he married, rather than it being all arranged. The latter thought though, had Hinoka genuinely curious. “Is that not the case for the upcoming wedding?”

Charlotte’s face twisted into a grimace as if she’d bitten into something bitter. “No, Leo’s marriage to Flora is purely political, but necessary to appease those frost-bitten savages. My darling husband will truly martyr himself for the good of this kingdom.”

Hinoka caught herself from visibly reacting to Lady Charlotte’s blatant insult towards the bride’s people. Yukimura had informed her about the Ice Clan and its predicament as a Nohrian tributary. A rebellion had been put down during the war, but unlike the massacre at Cheve, the survivors had been spared on Kamui’s order. It disturbed her to see that a Nohrian princess held such distaste for a segment of her subjects, people meant to be protected by their ruler.

Stirring up further issues would likely make her stay in Windmire unpleasant at best, however, so Hinoka instead asked, “Were King Marx and Princess Aqua also a love match?”

“Hard to say… Lady Aqua rarely shared her feelings with others. Although a waifish beauty, she was aloof and maudlin.” Charlotte’s purple-painted lips pursed, but her doubtful tone lightened into wryness. “I can assure that His Majesty wouldn’t have pressured her into accepting a marriage proposal. That sort of manipulation isn’t in his nature.”

.xxiii.

After a more pleasant midday meal in a room free of reeking sickly-sweet roses, Charlotte finally released her so that they could both prepare for the ceremony. The wedding was to occur in the dead of night, something too foreign for Hinoka to understand the logic behind. She wouldn’t be at risk of dosing off at least, with the troubles she had falling asleep these days.

Miyokichi bowed to her as she entered the guest room, one elegant hand gesturing to a nearby vanity— or rather, the ribboned box that sat atop it. “King Marx sent you a gift.”

 _What in the world would he want to give me?_ Hinoka went over and opened it without ceremony. Inside were a set of small brushes and what seemed to be containers full of pigments. It sort of reminded her of the powders that’d been used to make her up for the coronation.

“Are these… cosmetics?”

Miyokichi nodded. “The Nohrian maid who delivered it also showed me how to properly apply them. It is not as time consuming as facial powders.”

Thoughtful to include instruction with the gift. Still, the fact Marx had sent them at all had Hinoka wary. “Does the King expect me to wear them?”

“No clothing was sent, so I cannot say his intentions.”

Hinoka purposefully hadn’t brought Hoshidan facial powders as she’d had no plans to waste time with a beauty routine each morning. So she could not make herself up in the Hoshidan way, and after this gift to arrive barefaced might offend King Marx. As Yukimura and Sakura had remained behind, Hinoka alone acted as Hoshido’s diplomatic figurehead. These cosmetics and even the clothing she wore could impact the kingdom’s relations. Before she’d departed, her adviser had made suggestions on what outfits she should wear to during her visit to Nohr, formal robes rather than uniforms— to display wealth while also avoiding any suggestion that she harbored plans for an armed insurrection. Hinoka recalled how the regalia King Marx had worn to her own coronation had lacked any trace of armor, not only avoiding militant implications but also suggesting that he’d trusted her enough to make himself publicly vulnerable. If she didn’t do the same now, it could be taken as an insult. When Miyokichi had selected an elaborately embroidered set of robes, she swallowed down complaints over the fact every one they’d brought had trailing sleeves— a blatant reminder of her unmarried status.

 _The days of rolling off my cot, washing my face, and patrolling are long gone._ She replaced the lid and said, “A light application would be best, after I’m dressed.” Hinoka exhaled sharply, rubbing at her temples in an attempt to ease the tense pain.

Her handmaid must've noticed her discomfort, as she asked, "Does that headache persist, Your Eminence? Shall I prepare a tonic?"

"Could you?” Hinoka turned to look at her hopefully, but sobered as she realized there was no medicinal storeroom for them here. “I mean, the ingredients..."

Miyokichi’s chin rose as her expression turned confident. "I travel with packed herbs, which will take me only a moment to brew."

After Hinoka nodded her permission, her handmaid reached into one of their many traveling chests and pulled out a kit she’d been unaware was packed. With neat, efficient movements the green-haired woman retrieved the elements she needed— various dried herbs, a tiny kettle, whisk, mortar and pestle. Once the kettle was filled with water then set in the fireplace to heat, she sat with the mortar in her lap and began to grind the herbs with quick, simple circles of the pestle. Each of her movements were graceful with a quick confidence that Hinoka had never witnessed before in such a mundane task. It had her coming closer to try and get a better vantage point.

Miyokichi's gaze caught Hinoka peering curiously down, but didn't chastise, if anything her expression became indulgent. When she looked back to the herbs, she spoke in a calm voice, “I grew up the daughter of an apothecary, and everyone in Igasato learns about poisons. Medicine is often very small, controlled doses of something that would otherwise prove deadly.”

Hinoka knew this, it was why not just anyone could be a healer. As a daughter of the Byakuya family she’d been taught the basics of medicine and how to use a festal if the need arose. Yet unlike Sakura, she’d not pursued and honed those skills instead concentrating on the tasks of tenma warriors. Watching Miyokichi move with such confidence in her craft, she hoped her little sister might one day be so assured of herself.

A wave of homesickness washed over Hinoka, and she sent a quick prayer that the gods protect all in Shirasagi. By the time she was finished, her handmaid had mixed the powered herbs into a cup of hot water. Accepting the tonic with thanks, but before sipping she voiced a question that’d been in her mind since the first day they’d met. "Do you miss your life in Igasato?"

Miyokichi’s gaze abruptly lowered to the floor, then bowed her head until her bangs effectively hid her eyes from view. "...there's nothing for one such as I in the hidden village. Thank you for granting this unworthy one a new life, my queen."

.xxiv.

A strange thing, to be married not at a temple in the open air but within the confines of a throneroom. It was a grand room with high-vaulted ceilings, impressively large pillars, windows that contained starbursts of intense color. All save the glass were constructed out of stone, huge slabs that’d undoubtedly crush anyone it fell upon. She suddenly wished Yukimura was there just so she could ask if earthquakes occurred as frequently in the west as they did in the east.

Upon the appointed hour Hinoka had been escorted into the great hall by a young servant with white hair and, oddly enough, terrible posture. While polite, the dark rings under his eyes had her wondering if the staff in Krackenburg castle were given enough time to rest properly. Despite these thoughts her own servants, even retainers, weren’t anywhere near Hinoka at the moment— she’d been seated in the front row amongst the members of royal house Anya. A privilege, undoubtedly. Although Hinoka found herself more preoccupied with how she’d spied not a trace of either Nohrian Princesses, even now as the wedding ceremony appeared close to beginning.

Glancing once more about her, that shade of pale purple caught Hinoka's eye— she went tense and insides twisted with into knots. Yet the woman’s silhouette, wide shouldered and slim hipped, was just about the opposite of Princess Camilla’s. Another glance confirmed that the face was unfamiliar, and despite the familiar shade the hair lacked curliness. These differences were enough to let Hinoka relax in her seat.

Her glances had not gone unnoticed, however.

The purple-haired woman left her three blond companions, sauntered down the row, and gestured towards the currently empty high-backed chair beside Hinoka’s. With a lopsided smile, she asked, “Is this seat taken?”

“Likely,” Hinoka replied. This was a royal wedding; every seat was assigned lest anarchy break out. The woman apparently found her answer humorous, as she let out a rough bark of laughter.

The stranger sat down, slinging an arm over the backs of the chairs with an air of foolhardy ease. Despite being a woman, she wore not a gown but breeches and a fitted jacket. The fact that she was in this row at all meant the woman had some sort of connection to the royal family, from the coloring and Hinoka’s luck, she was likely related to Nohr’s First Princess. As much as Hinoka wanted to simply dismiss her, she had to tread carefully. _If anyone’ll try to kill me on a whim, it’s Camilla._

“Such a beautiful face that I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing before.” The stranger’s stare slid over Hinoka with an open appreciation and assessment that most men wouldn’t’ve dared. “You’re not from Windmire, are you?”

Hinoka shook her head then broke eye contact to gaze at the raised platform and alter, hoping it’d be taken as an end to the conversation and she’d leave.

Instead, the purple-haired woman heedlessly continued, “Oh let me guess! Cyrkensia? Notre Sagasse? Musuku-”

“Hoshido.” Hinoka interrupted, annoyed by the certainty this stranger would keep guessing otherwise. Yet the way the woman lit up had her regretting answering at all.

“Hoshidan! I should’ve known with such exotic coloring and delicate features” Hinoka turned her head enough to glare. Yet the woman leaned closer, eyes heavy lidded, and voice pitched low, “I’d love to be your companion here, and if you permit me… to your rooms.”

The audacity of the statement had Hinoka shifting to face her in full, with the movement her peripheral vision caught the fact that this stranger had snuck a hand down to take hold of hers. With a twist of her wrist she broke the woman’s unwelcome hold and drew her numb hand out of reach. Hinoka let the breadth of her disapproval fill her voice, “Why would I permit such a thing? I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, that’s an easy fix. I’m-”

“Soleil!” The name was hissed as another young woman, one with yellow hair coiled in tight ringlets, caught the purple-haired woman by the elbow and pulled her up onto her feet. It was another from the other end of the row, whose gown was frillier and fuller in skirt compared to the majority of the attending audience. Heedless the spectacle they were making, the blonde’s grey eyes were locked onto the other as she chided, “Go and sit by Ophelia. His Majesty wouldn’t approve of you laying hands on his guests.”

“Foleooooooo.” Soleil gave a plaintive whine, which was ignored as the blonde gave her a firm shove back towards their seats.

After she set her hands stubbornly upon her hips, the purple-haired woman sighed and finally walked away. Hinoka had to hold in a sigh of relief. Once it was clear Soliel didn’t intend to come back, the new stranger turned to Hinoka and made an impressively low curtsy with a humbly bowed head. When she righted herself, Hinoka felt there was something eerily familiar about her face— though she couldn’t pinpoint precisely what.

Her voice had a pleasant tone as she said, “Queen Hinoka, please excuse my relation’s behavior. Soliel didn’t intent offense, she’s simply an admirer of female beauty.”

A derisive snort escaped Hinoka. “From what was said, she would’ve admired me more with no clothing.”

“O-oh my… my sincerest apologies.” The blonde blushed brightly, dipping once again into a curtsy. “I’ll speak with her, it won’t happen again.”

Hinoka simply nodded, troubled by the muted renewal of her headache. The stranger then whirled around in a flurry of lacy skirts and headed down the row. All of these distractions had her nearly jumping as Charlotte abruptly sat down beside her, a new set of jewelry sparkling with the flickering light of the countless candles which lit the great hall.

The royal consort craned her bejeweled neck to look towards the blonde headed to opposite end of the row, her painted lips pursed. “Was he bothering you?”

 _He?_ “…no, if anything he lent assistance.”

“Hm,” Charlotte settled back in her seat, looking suddenly proud. “Good.”

Before Hinoka could inquire about that cryptic remark and whether Nohrian noblemen regularly dressed in women's clothing, foreign instruments struck up a tune and the surrounding chatter fell to a hush. The ceremony had begun it seemed.

The massive doors to the great hall closed and for the first time since Hinoka had arrived in Windmire she saw Marx. He wore an imposing set of western-style robes, the black material obscured his tall form and reflected light like oil. It made his solemn face almost dour as he passed down the isle and climbed to stand behind the alter. The doors opened enough to permit one slender young man and several small page boys similarly dressed in black to pass through and head down the aisle.

Hinoka’s breath caught in her throat— his hair was a pale blue like a cloudless sky —the precise color of Aqua’s! Yet, that couldn’t be right, he was grown, an adult. Aqua had only left Hoshido a little over a year and a half ago. Although her heart cried recognition, her mind couldn’t reconcile what she was seeing.

“Rise as the Fourth Prince delivers royal house Anya’s anthem.”

Marx’s command boomed through the cavernous room, and Hinoka found herself caught up in it as everyone rose to their feet.

The young man didn’t stand upon the platform itself, but rather to the side with the pageboys at his back who’d taken up a chanting croon. She felt herself mirroring his long draw of breath before his mouth opened and a _beautiful_ voice spilled out, drawing the audience like the moon pulled the ocean’s tides. The pure sound filled her head, chasing painful memories and even aches away.

“Shadows of the lowland leading to  
the cold and darkened days.  
Without any hope,  
without a light for long.  
Will the suffering ever come to an end?”

He repeated the last line, voice full of haunting emotion. When her eyes began to sting, Hinoka bit down on her lip to keep composure. Crown Prince Leo passed down the aisle at a quick march, looking sharply handsome in dark-colored regalia and blue cloak.

“Will the suffering come to an end  
one day?  
Pride keeps us strong today,  
glory will be with us.  
Now the time has come,  
to fight and seize the day.”

The bride almost seemed to float down the aisle in her gown trimmed by white furs. The gray-haired man walking beside her supported with arms entwined, his expression even more solemn than Marx’s had been. The signer’s voice never lost its strength as the song continued.

“Pride keeps us strong today,  
glory will be with us...  
When will our prayers be heard,  
high up in the sky above.  
Soon fate will show us  
the place where we belong.”

“What’s wrong?” Charlotte whispered, sounding alarmed. One of the royal consort’s hands rose, a heavily ringed finger touched her cheek— and only then did Hinoka feel the tears streaming down her own face.

“Suddenly, a gleam of hope.  
Can you feel the power of faith?  
Our native land,  
here we stand.  
As one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rosarium is something I cooked up for Krackenburg castle in [IAWG's chapter 5](https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/11739470?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_178778865). Although in this verse I suppose Nohr stole some tea roses since Hoshido wouldn't be sending any as a gift.
> 
> In [Conquest's chapter 13 Charlotte refers to the Chevois rebels as "nasty savages"](https://youtu.be/AeiJoFrbTGk?t=15m11s) and finds her role as a Nohrian border guard distinct, thus seems to be one of the rare cases of racism shown by Nohrian units, in a west vs west capacity no less.
> 
> The song Shigure sings is [Theosoir, from Xenoblade Chronicles 2](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5az9ZdtkrEU) (take a listen it’s lovely) the same chorus Marx sang in Chapter 5. These lyrics were just transcribed by ear so I’m not sure if they’re truly accurate, but I did find some of the lines resonant with my fic plans.
> 
> And that’s right, Deeprealms happened in this verse. We’re gonna explore that fallout.


	9. Snow and Rainfall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka hears of betrayal and feels similarly towards her out-of-control emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 warnings: invasion of personal space, promiscuous behavior, judgemental thoughts, anxiety and fear, PSTD flashbacks, mentioned character death, mentioned betrayal, capital punishment, internal conflicted and empathy, questionable age dynamics, domestic breeding practices, distressed animals.

.xxv.

The last thing Hinoka had expected after— the bride and groom had exchanged vows, been granted blessings, and even kissed one another on the mouth in public —was for there to be another step. Aside from the banquet or the couple leaving for the privacy of their bed chamber. Yet once finished with the priestly performance the Nohrian king had descended the platform, while most of the audience filed out of the great hall, and had told Hinoka that she would ride with him for the next stage of the wedding. The ceremony itself hadn’t been overly long, so the skies were dark as it was still the dead of night.

“King Marx, do you mean we’re leaving the castle?” Hinoka asked with as much authority as she could muster in her voice. Although she likely looked far from queenly with red-rimmed eyes and clutching a tear-stained, lacy handkerchief which Charlotte had lent her. _I can’t believe I broke down like that, here of all places._

However, he didn’t remark upon it, instead the royal consort answered, “Yes, and no dawdling!” Then she unceremoniously went beside the King, slipped an arm about one of his, and stuck herself to his side like a burr.

“We must depart now to arrive on time,” Marx said, extending his free arm towards Hinoka. Swallowing any reservations Hinoka laid her numb hand in his gloved one and allowed him to loop their arms together— a pose that forced her into close proximity and caused his movements to prompt her own. Despite their difference in height his pace was one she easily matched, so without protest Hinoka allowed him to lead her away from the great hall and the rest of the crowd.

While they walked she kept glancing down to their intertwined hands, surreal in how she couldn’t feel the way his engulfed hers. This close she felt the warmth of his body against her entwined arm, even with the layers of her Hoshidan and his Nohrian robes between them. It made Hinoka all the more conscious of how the castle hallways were largely empty, leaving them with only each other’s company.

 _I’m alone with a couple of Nohrians. They could lock me in a room and no one would find me._ Repressing the urge to squirm at that thought, she asked, “Will my retainers be accompanying us?”

Not missing a step, Marx shook his head. “The next stage is one meant for kin and kith, and… only so many intruders will be welcome on the mountain.”

“We’re going somewhere Nohr’s King faces limitation?”

He glanced at her, the corner of his mouth quirking. “While the territory belongs to my kingdom, Garou Mountain has its own keepers who must be heeded.”

Hinoka’s brow pinched in confusion, but she had no desire to decipher riddles. Instead she asked, “Why are we traveling to a mountain?”

Charlotte abruptly leaned forward enough to catch Hinoka’s eye as she answered. “It’s tradition for newlyweds to make a point of beginning the new day together.”

Marx nodded. “We’re fortunate enough to go where they might also see dawn break.”

“Leo and I also watched the sun rise together as husband and wife. But we married while on the march, so our wedding wasn’t nearly as extravagant as all this.” Charlotte gave a sigh that sounded more longing than resentful.

“Should I provide a generous stipend for your anniversary celebration?” Marx said, his voice quiet in a way that Hinoka was beginning to recognize.

“Oh, yes please!” The royal consort practically gushed, her eyelashes fluttering in a manner that was uncomfortably flirtatious. “I’m so grateful you’re my brother-in-law, Majesty.”

Marx’s eyes narrowed and brow furrowed low even as he smiled. “Just as I’m glad my brother has a good woman to love and support him, First Princess Consort Charlotte.”

At his words royal consort’s expression became stiff and then she righted herself with a burst of self-conscious laughter. When Marx’s gaze shifted to hers Hinoka abruptly broke it to stare before them, feeling strangely guilty for having witnessed the exchange. _Nohrians and their shameless flirting!_ The rest of their walk was done in silence. After scaling several flights of stairs, they ended up on top a large tower with a flat roof where multiple wyverns were saddled and lay waiting.

“I’m riding with Foleo.” Charlotte released Marx’s arm and when he nodded she left with a wave. “Taa taa for now.”

Hinoka didn’t watch her go, instead was all too aware of the mounts they were intended to ride. Despite forcing herself to draw even breaths, each one was full of the scaly beasts’ pungent musk. When Marx turned them to approach one Hinoka felt her heart beat growing faster.

The wyvern wasn't the sort that haunted her nightmares— black body, red eyes, and rows of fangs covered in Senshi's blood —instead its scales were a silver-gray while its head was covered by armored tack. Small mercies.

Still Hinoka went tense when Marx untwined their arms and offered to help her. After she managed to nod, his gloved hands moved to her waist and he lifted her onto the saddle. He moved her without struggle, yet the tight wrap of the formal robes forced her to sit side saddle. The position was made even more awkward once Marx swung into the saddle behind her, the solid warmth of him once again touched her side. She hadn’t shared the saddle like this since she’d been a small child, before she’d taken up training, and it had her overly conscious of how large of a man Nohr’s king was. _If only golden kites were nocturnal like these beasts, then I could demand to ride alone._

Suddenly the wyvern shifted into a stand, and the exaggerated wobble of its movements had Hinoka catching whatever was in reach for stability. One hand grabbed the saddle’s pommel and the other Marx's forearm. Her touch evidently spurred his arm into firmly encircling her with a hold which pressed her bodily against him and cradled the center of her weight in the vee of his thighs. Admittedly it was a more secure position, one that provided balance. Yet Hinoka hadn’t been held this close by a man since her disastrous ride through the streets of Shirasagi— a hot blush rose in her face at both the memory and current predicament.

She heard the wyvern’s tack jangle musically as it idly shifted its weight from one foot to another. However, Marx ducking his head close had her pulse pounding over the ambient noises. He murmured in her ear, “...you smell of spices.”

Hinoka mentally cursed her racing heart, and replied as steadily as she could, “It's a bag of dried cloves. I’m wearing it to ward off colds, especially with this weather.”

“You’re right, it will be cold.”

She sent him a questioning look, but Marx offered no further explanation. Instead he called to one of the servants, gave an order, and within moments an all too familiar cloak was fastened about her shoulders. Once he’d glanced to the side she gave into impulse and rubbed her cheek against the cape’s fabric, luxuriating in its plushness. Hinoka couldn’t help noticing that it shared his scent.

.xxvi.

The flight from Krackenburg Castle to their destination had been long, the skies they’d traveled through were dark and biting with nighttime chill. Hinoka had found herself grateful for Marx’s large form, as he’d shielded her from the whipping wind. Yet she was more thankful when the group of wyverns had finally descended to land. It was a mountainside which was entirely white, covered in snow. The breaths of both mounts and riders puffed into the air. When Marx slid out of the saddle from behind her, Hinoka felt herself beginning to shiver despite the layers of her silk robe and the borrowed cloak.

He helped her down from the saddle and had to catch her when sudden movement in the dark had Hinoka leaping out of her skin. With a numb hand rising to the ready position for a fight, she asked, “Wha-what was that?”

Taking his hands from her waist Marx reached past Hinoka to the wyvern’s saddlebags and brought down a glass-chambered lantern, one that sparked to life with the glow of magic in his hands. As she glanced about another lit up in Crown Prince Leo’s hands, revealing his bride and mount, and another illuminated ringleted Foleo and Princess Consort Charlotte. A last lantern flickered on between the long fingers of the eye-patched Zero, behind him stood Kamui and a pink-gowned woman seemingly huddled together for warmth. The four anima lanterns cast enough brightness in the gloom to reveal what Hinoka had spied earlier— the hulking shapes of many huge, furred creatures.

She’d never seen an animal like them: bipedal, long arms, massive hand-like paws tipped with claws, flat faces with fangs, tusks, and horns, thrice the size of a grown man. Two people stood before throng, a woman and man whose hair was comprised of dual colors. Although as she looked, Hinoka noticed inhuman features on the man— black, dog-like ears and a furred tail. It was similar to how fox spirits were rumored to appear, people with the animal’s features.

Marx’s voice was low as he said, “These are the keepers of this mountain, they share its name, the Garou. People also refer to them as wolves’ kin.”

The tailed man cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Oi, yer Kingliness, ‘bout time you showed up!” The twin-tailed woman at his side seemed to actually be hopping up and down with excitement.

“Wait here, I must greet them.” Marx told her before he walked towards the Garou, snow squeaking under his boots. Hinoka physically cringed when the creatures surrounded him, furry bodies blocking him from sight. She found that she was more disturbed by the thought of the Nohrian king being torn apart than not.

“Don’t worry about His Majesty. He’s just saying hello to Pieri, Flannel, Velour, and their pack.”

Hinoka turned to a new stranger, the woman who’d been huddled with her brother and Zero a moment ago. Without the light of the anima lantern, her hair was more peach-colored than orange while her pale skin curiously wasn’t reddened with the cold. She was looking at Hinoka with a smile and seemingly guileless eyes, which had her more suspicious than anything.

Choosing her words carefully, Hinoka asked, “You know the Garou?”

The woman quickly nodded, the high tail of her hair rippling with the movement. “I do! Well actually, I only know Flannel and Velour. They were part of the army last year. Which, by the way, I’m so glad you’re looking better, Queen Hinoka.”

That had her brow raising. “Have we met before?”

The woman nodded again, though with less energy. “Yes, it was… It was when you’d returned to Shirasagi castle, the day the war had ended.”

At her words Hinoka was suddenly there— smoke in the air, splintered wood underfoot, salty tears on her tongue, Ryouma’s blood on Raijinto —she had to take a deep breath, a painful one because of the cold, mountain air.

“Uwaaah, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to… I-it was a hard day for everybody.”

After Hinoka had gathered her composure she opened her eyes, made herself look fully at the woman, and did find her face familiar. She’d been the peach-haired servant in the black uniform who’d tried to guide her through the ruins of her own home on that terrible day. Only now she wore a Nohrian gown more suited for a noblewoman.

“What’re you doing here?” Hinoka asked, her tone harsher than she’d intended.

“Sorry, sorry.” The woman shrank a little, shoulders curling inwards to make herself smaller. “Flora’s my sister, so I got to come. My name’s Felicia.”

“No need to apologize, Lady Felicia, I was too harsh.” Hinoka put on a smile, mentally chiding herself for falling apart not once but twice in a night.

She returned the smile. “I’m Corrin’s personal maid, he’s a wonderful master.”

Hinoka’s brow furrowed. “Your sister married the crown prince and you’re being treated as a servant? Shouldn’t the match have elevated your status too?”

“I-I-I-I-” Her’s eyes darted everywhere but Hinoka’s face. She looked completely flustered as she blurted in a rush, “Ilikebeingamaid!” After bowing deeply at the waist, Felicia turned then sprinted back towards Kamui and his husband her skirts kicking indecently high.

Hinoka found herself blinking after her, unsure what to make of the jumbled retort and hasty retreat. She didn’t think on it long as Marx finally emerged from the crowd of Garou. He called out in a loud voice, “We’ve permission to climb to the summit and watch daybreak. The wyverns will remain here until our return.”

The rest of the riders all began to head off on the same direction and Hinoka followed them, unwilling to remain alone with the scaely beasts. Marx caught up to her quickly and then matched her pace in the climb, often offering a steadying hand whenever it grew steep or uneven. In her formal garb it took the bulk of Hinoka’s concentration, and soon enough they’d reached the summit proper.

Everyone approached its ledges, although gingerly as the darkness concealed much. Hinoka watched as the Nohrian royalty and their spouses spread out, remaining clumped in the same groupings they’d flown over in. She found her eyes drawn particularly to the effeminate young man at Charlotte’s arm, curious over where precisely he fit within the Nohrian royal family. Once standing positions had been agreed upon the anima lanterns were set at their bearers’ feet and doused. Without the magically fueled illumination, the hour made itself known with the faintest light of pre-dawn.

A wind blew over the summit, not strong or chilled, but enough to keep quiet conversations from the ears of others. So Hinoka decided to indulge her curiosity, leaned in and said, “I met Soliel and Foleo at the wedding. Them and that singer, King Marx, who are they?”

She felt the shift of the air as he stooped towards her and replied, “They are princes and princesses of royal house Anya, my younger blood relatives.”

 _I guess Yukimura’s reports that King Garon had more than four children were accurate._ “More of your brothers and sisters? I haven’t seen Princess Camilla or Princess Elise.”

Marx’s mouth drew into a taunt line and he hesitated. “My sisters aren’t here.”

Hinoka nearly rolled her eyes. “Obviously. Where are they?”

“I don’t know. Have either of them been spotted in Hoshido?”

“No, the last reported sightings were during the war.”

Marx’s expression grew tense, but he nodded.

Noticeable noise from the rest of the crowd filled the air, Hinoka looked out and found that the day was breaking. The sun rose in the east, into the sky on rosy wings. Its rays illuminated the sides of the snow mountain alongside the hills and plains below the high peak. The color of the dawn light was a delicate pink that reminded her of cherry blossoms, and it somehow made the craggy, barren landscape look softer. Yet it was impossible to forget that this wasn’t home and was not so far from the place Sumeragi had been ambushed and killed. _I hope father saw the sun before he died._

After a long moment of oppressive silence, Hinoka turned to Marx and asked, “When was the last time you saw Princess Elise and Princess Camilla?”

“A few days after my coronation they went missing.” Marx slowly turned his face, as if reluctant to look away from the view. “We searched but didn’t find a trace of my sisters or their husbands.”

“H-husbands?!”

“Camilla had wed my retainer, Laslow, and Elise had married Leo’s retainer, Odin.” Marx continued, as if she hadn’t made an outburst.

The last time she has seen her, Princess Elise had looked younger than Sakura. For Nohr’s youngest princess to have been married, Hinoka couldn’t quiet wrap her mind around. After clearing her throat, she asked, “Where were they from?”

Marx’s brow furrowed low, jaw tight as he answered. “We don’t really know. Two men and a woman, all skilled warriors, appeared seemingly from nowhere and King Garon appointed them our royal retainers. During the war and the year preceding it, they were thought to be loyal, yet…” He broke eye contact to instead glare at the lightening mountainside below. “The betrayal of stealing princesses cannot be forgiven. Laslow and Odin are marked for death, should anyone spy them in these lands again.”

Hinoka stared at him, at a loss for words. She couldn’t imagine putting a bounty on Setsuna or Asama’s heads— no matter how frustrated she might grow at their antics. Then again Mikoto hadn’t forced them upon her, Hinoka had chosen the clumsy noblewoman and obstinate mountain priest to be her retainers. And they’d honored her choice by sticking by her side, even fighting a losing battle while Hoshido crumbled around them.

Yet if things had been different. If Corrin had come home, Hoshido had won the war, and then both her younger siblings had disappeared with her retainers as the most likely culprits… Hinoka imagined she wouldn’t have felt very forgiving either. In fact, she likely would’ve been heartbroken.

She looked at Marx’s face, long and hard, exaggerating shadows cast by the dawn light slanted across his profile. Slowly she realized the emotion lining his features wasn’t anger or disgust— it was grief. The Nohrian king was silently grieving, and Hinoka found it inspired disturbing feelings within her. _It’s only fair that he suffer too… so why am I not enjoying it?_

.xxvii.

After returning to Krackenburg Castle, Hinoka attended the banquet long enough to be noticed and not set tongues wagging, then retired to the guest rooms. After falling into a deep sleep despite the hour, she’d woken late in the day. The castle was quiet, its occupants and guests apparently still sleeping off the night’s revelry.

It would’ve been the perfect opportunity to take an evening flight of her own, except Windmire’s skies were laden with dark clouds which dropped a slow drizzling rain. Yet Hinoka found herself craving the uncomplicated companionship that animals provided, so she'd borrowed a set Miyokichi's work clothes and headed to the mews regardless. It was where the wyverns were housed and not a place Hinoka would’ve normally chosen to visit, but the large birds of prey were too aggressive to house in the stables alongside horses or tenma.

Only native to Hoshido, golden kites were rare to begin with. The flock raptors in the wilderness that were often hunted by ranchers and farmers because of how they'd prey on livestock. And truly wild kites weren't 'golden' but rather faded pallets of cream and brown that better blended into foliage. It was only through the efforts of her Byakuya ancestors, capturing and selectively breeding the most beautiful specimens, that the peacock-feathered golden-colored kites existed at all.

Shirasagi's rookery was one of the few places that housed multiple flocks of golden kites, each belonging to a different noble family. Although with how the war had thinned its numbers Hinoka worried remaining within the local circles ran the risk of detrimental inbreeding. Out of the flock solely adult female golden kites were big enough to carry human riders, the males were considered only good for stud-work and rearing chicks.

There were times Hinoka wished she'd bought a new tenma for herself while visiting the ranches— no matter how impressive riding a golden kite could be. But the truth was, another tenma wouldn't be Senshi. The animal wouldn't know her, the years of bonding would have to begin anew. Right now, Hinoka wasn’t sure if her heart could take it. _Besides it’s not as if there’s anything wrong with Okibi. Stop mooning over it, Hinoka._

Once inside the large tower which housed the mews, she ignored the stink of wyverns and headed to the level where her entourage’s mounts were being housed. The birds were squawking and whistling to each other in their paddocks, she heard the faint scratching of one or two rearranging the straw on the floor. It took her a moment to remember precisely where her own golden kite was housed but moved there eagerly once she had— only to come to a halt, shocked to find the paddock doors thrown open and another person already inside.

It was the singer, the light blue of his hair unmistakable. Rather than black robes, he wore an ensemble of blues. His form-fitting clothing emphasized the leanness of his body, his slight built, and long limbs. Even without the hulking bulk of the average Nohrian, the willowy beauty of him would've stood out.

He resembled Aqua so much it was painful. _Is he her brother? Aqua never mentioned having one… then again, I can’t recall a time she’d ever spoken about her life in Nohr._

The young man had a hand touching Okibi, petting over the thick feathers on her long neck. The golden kite was almost eerily tranquil, eyes contentedly closed and body settled against the ground. When Hinoka dared to draw closer, she heard him lowly humming a melody.

Finally snapping out of a daze, Hinoka called out, “What’re you doing here?”

“Ah!” The singer ceased humming and he spun to face her. “M-my apologies. I didn’t mean any harm-”

Okibi’s eyes snapped open and she surged to her feet, feathers ruffling. She bristled and puffed herself up— feathers shining yellow and fading into sky blue on her long head and tail feathers. Cocking her head towards the young man, her hooked beak opened and her wings flared in a threatening display. Every bit of her body language threatening to lunge.

He recoiled away from the bird, looking panicked. Resisting every impulse to rush Hinoka walked at an even pace towards the paddock, repetitively clicking her tongue. It was a sound the bird-keepers had taught her to calm the golden kites, one they’d been conditioned through training to respond to. And it worked, looking away from the singer Okibi cocked her head to one side then the other, glossy yellow neck extending and retracting.

By the time Hinoka had entered the paddock and was within arm’s reach, her wings had folded, her beak had shut, and feathers had smoothed. Continuing to click her tongue Hinoka stroked the downy feathers along the side of the bird’s head with the back of her hand. She rubbed down to the glossy curve of her sharp beak, until Okibi give an irritated squawk and sidestepped. Hinoka grabbed the young man by the arm and hauled him out of the paddock— only stopping the noise once the doors were closed and secured.

The moment the clicking was gone, the bird inside gave a shrill cry then stamped and raked the straw with her talons, kicking up a cloud of dust. Hinoka kept her grip tight and led them far enough away that the golden kite would no longer feel like her territory was being intruded upon. Then she gave him a stern glare and repeated her question, “What were you doing here, in my mount’s paddock?”

Compared to all but the wildest tenma, golden kites were ill-tempered and volatile. Territorial birds of prey, they wouldn't hesitate in lashing out when feeling threatened or aggravated. The fact he’d gotten so close in the first place was puzzling.

The singer’s expression was sheepish, as he said, “I enjoy flying but get on poorly with wyverns. When I’d heard winged mounts from Hoshido were also here… I wanted a closer look.”

Hinoka let go of his arm and asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Shigure.”

 _Strange he didn’t include his surname or title._ “I wouldn’t have expected a Nohrian prince to have such a Hoshidan name.”

“Ah… my mother was unique, and my father indulged her.” His smile was sad. “She apparently liked the meaning.”

A drizzling rain shower in late autumn, that is what his name meant. It was poetic in its own way, especially considering the current weather. Although it was an uncommon name as it could also be given to girls thus was often considered too feminine for sons. Hinoka had to wonder how Queen Shenmei had such intimate knowledge about ancient languages of foreign, enemy countries.

“Well, Fourth Prince Shigure of Nohr, don’t harass the queen of Hoshido’s golden kite again without permission. It’ll likely take the rest of the evening for her to settle down.”

Shigure had the grace to blush. “Please forgive me, I know it wasn’t proper.”

With the situation handled, Hinoka found her adrenaline and irritation evaporating in the face of his contrition. He really did resemble Aqua, not only in looks but also graceful motion. So, she accepted the apology with no further reprimand. “You’re forgiven. Perhaps on a different day I’ll give you permission accompany me for a flight.”

Shigure’s expression brightened. “Truly?” She nodded and found her breath stolen by the radiance of his smile, “Oh thank you, I’d love that.”

“Are you available tonight?” The words escaped Hinoka before her sense of decorum could catch them. “T-to talk, I just want to talk.”

Shigure smiled again, out of politeness this time. “I’m afraid I will be busy later. My father also wants to speak with me. Though I hope we’ll see each other again.” He then excused himself, gliding across the floor with natural grace until he was out of sight.

Hinoka sighed, strangely missing Shigure despite having only just met him. Yet there’d be plenty to keep her busy, not only comforting but also grooming Okibi. As she turned, she noticed there beside the paddock doors was a feather that’d been kicked out with some straw. A large, yellow, and as long as she was tall, patterned with stripes of color, shading from a light blue to indigo at the tip. It was a primary feather from Okibi’s tail, which would flutter behind them in flight like a warbanner.

Reverently picking it up Hinoka drew the feather across her cheek, felt the caress of its individual barbules against her skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The side ship of Flannel/Pieri will likely only be seen in this chapter, as they're living together on the mountain.
> 
> Garou is what the wolfskin had as a class name in the Japanese script, the mountain was Kaien (cayenne?) Peak but it got changed to Garou in English. This location is [canonically the only place you can 'see the sun' in Nohr](https://fateswartable.wordpress.com/2016/01/08/hoshido-chapter-15-werewolf-mountain/#more-287), though I tweak that worldbuilding to overcast skies cause literal eternal darkness isn't very livable.
> 
> I’m always struck by the way at endgame the Awakening trio packed up and went home [in 100% of their epilogues](http://aphonicdreams.tumblr.com/post/126373106477/nohr-epilogue-translations)… and how the spouses seem to go with them. From all their lord/retainer supports, they seem to keep the world hopping a secret. So following that logic in this verse Laslow and Odin took their wives Camilla and Elise with them, while Marx and Leo only know that the four of them disappeared… leaving behind their kids. That detail also struck me, how [the epilogues seem to imply both Ophelia and Soliel](http://aphonicdreams.tumblr.com/post/126373117012/feif-children-epilogue-translations) are left to their own devices. They are fully grown, but the parent abandonment on top of the Deeprealms feels bad. Marx's attitude and stance towards this aftermath is my own interpretation, since from what we see in canon sources he doesn't react well to losing siblings.
> 
> There are other meanings for Shigure than ‘rain’, but the water theme matches Aqua’s name best. While it's true in-game that Nohrian units can class change into tenma warriors and/or start there without issue, I find it thematically peculiar when tenma and golden kites aren't native/easily accessible. Especially with this instance where Shigure is a prince of Nohr and Marx's son. So I've written him with a different class in mind, feel free to speculate on which it is.


	10. Madness is Divinest Sense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka discovers more than one type of madness lies in Nohr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: social anxiety, peer pressure, suspicion, questioning standards of sanity, arguments, reference child neglect, questionable use of power, physical discomfort and loss of appetite, unwelcome sexual overtures, combative language, insults and threats, discussion of imprisonment and war crimes, discussion of kidnapping, referenced character death, flashbacks, symptoms akin to depersonalization and psychotic break.

.xxviii.

The morning had dawned gray and misty, but the rain had abated enough that Hinoka and her retainers had walked to the archery range without becoming sodden. While the wooden overhang and hay-bale targets were recognizable, the lack of grass and sand in favor of stone and gravel caused the twang of bowstrings and thunk of arrows to echo strangely. The rock made everything reverberate sharply, including the hushed murmurs of other people.

“You’d think at least one of these louts had a mother who taught them about rudeness.” Asama muttered, too quiet to be truly cutting. The priest cast a disparaging look over the crowd gathered on the outskirts of the range. She could tell by the stiffness in his shoulders that he was uneasy, possibly over the number surrounding them or perhaps over the fact the three of them had been outnumbered since they’d arrived.

Early that morning Princess Consort Charlotte had sent a pageboy with the message indicating she hadn’t yet recovered from the festivities and would keep abed, thus could not be able to provide company. Hinoka had been thrilled at the possibility of a day to herself, informing her handmaid and then quickly rounding up her retainers. She’d come here hoping for a quiet practice session, but it wasn’t as if she had the authority to banish the Nohrians from their own archery range.

So Hinoka ignored the stares and said, “Let them gawk. Better than acknowledging it bothers us.”

The bow in her hand was a simple design made from polished bamboo, light-weight and fine for practicing— although in truth, she wished she might’ve spent the time taming the wind instead. Since arriving at Castle Krackenburg proper Hinoka had kept the Fuujin Yumi wrapped and hidden inside one of her personal trunks in the guest room, a location only known by herself and Miyokichi. As much as it had stung her pride, Crown Prince Leo’s reputed lack of mercy was not something she wanted to test by defying him within his seat of power. She was trying to curb her recklessness, for Sakura’s sake.

Looking to the quiver at her hip, Hinoka held in a sigh as she found only two arrows remained. She drew one and set it against the bowstring, concentrating on keeping her numb hands steady. After aiming and exhaling a breath, she consciously relaxed her grip and left the arrow fly. It landed solidly, not skewed or bouncing off, to the right and low enough to not land dead center. Hinoka remembered how Takumi would land sets of arrows grouped neatly at the bull's eye and couldn’t help but think of how far she was from his skill. _Takumi worked with a bow since he could stand, it’ll take me years to even come close._ The thought made her feel tired, though as Hinoka lowered the bow she felt the sweat cooling on her brow and supposed it might’ve more been the hours she’d already spent on the range.

“Nicely shot.” A deep, now-familiar voice called out.

Relived that she hadn’t flinched, Hinoka turned towards the range’s entrance and found the tall form of Nohr’s King standing there. While he wore no armor, ceremonial or otherwise, the richness of his western outfit— braided tassels, deeply dyed sashes, luxurious fabrics —rivaled any regalia and declared his status to all eyes. It made her conscious of how she was dressed in a loose jacket and simple split skirt, although dabbing a sleeve to her forehead brushed against the circlet of the crown.

 _I’m his equal, a queen, no matter what I wear._ With that thought in mind, Hinoka subtly rolled her shoulders and straightened her spine as she lowered the bow. Turning to face him, she said, “King Marx, I wasn’t expecting you.”

“I’d sent a page but was informed you weren’t in your rooms.” The gathered crowd bowed and parted for the tall blond as he came forward. “The days after a wedding tends to be informal, usually dedicated to rest.”

There was an unspoken question in his tone, so she gestured to the punctured target, “I find such practice relaxing.”

“It’s good you’ve found a place to be comfortable.”

Hinoka stiffened at his words, wondering, _Did he know I’ve not been?_ He’d come to a halt beside her, height towering. Those dark eyes were staring in that too-perceptive way of his. Desperate to change the subject, she shoved her bow at him and blurted, “Why not demonstrate your own skill?”

Hinoka held her bow for Marx long enough that her outstretched arm began to tire before he finally took it. The challenging look that garnered from her might have spurred him into taking the arrow she offered him without hesitation. She stepped back and he stepped up to the edge of the platform, looking towards the target. Marx stood in proper archer’s posture with feet planted wide, his thickly muscled arms smoothly drew the bowstring until the fletching brushed his jaw, big hand loosing the arrow without hesitation— only for it to fly wide and ricochet off the far back wall of the range.

It happened so fast, between one breath and the next, that she had none to lose in shock. The previously constant murmuring abruptly went silent. From the corner of her eye she watched Setsuna tilt her head in confusion then open her mouth, only to be quieted by Asama’s covering hand. By the way the priest’s shoulders were shaking and his face screwed up, he barely kept himself from laughing aloud. Instead of chiding the two of them, she kept her eyes affixed to the Nohrian king as he turned from the target to face her.

“I have more talent for magic at range than other weapons,” he said, the quietness of his tone she might’ve called embarrassment for anyone else.

Hinoka gave a nod of acknowledgement, but otherwise took back the bow and handed it to Asama without further comment. Free of his hands, Setsuna said, “…I’ll get them.” She trotted out onto the range to the target and began retrieving the arrows. It was enough to break the silence, a few Nohrians who’d been standing by the sidelines began to gathering bows and ammunition of their own.

After clearing his throat, Marx said, “Queen Hinoka, if you could please excuse your retainers and accompany me? I’ve gathered the persons of import you wished to meet.”

Her brow creased before realization hit her— he meant Aqua’s sons! Without protest she did as he’d suggested, then walked beside him with jittery excitement as they left the outer courtyards for the castle interior. Although once again in close proximity to the ruler of her enemies, Hinoka’s mind was occupied by the different possibilities of what would the boys be like. _I hope they took after Aqua. But they can’t be older than Hisame, so they’re sure to be cute._

.xxix.

When they finally stopped before a doorway, Marx grabbed the handle yet didn’t turn it. Abruptly, he said, “Hinoka, I must warn you that meeting my sons will seem strange.”

“What do you mean, Marx?” She asked, her stomach tightening with nerves.

“It may not only defy your expectations… but also defy reason.” Although his expression didn’t change, she noticed his hand tightened its grip. “You have my word that I will provide an explanation, but I ask that you stay and listen in full.”

Hinoka frowned at his cryptic phrasing but nodded, and finally he opened the door ushering her inside. The room was small with no windows, lit instead by the orange glow of anima lanterns. The space was rather cramped by being over-furnished. However, the motion of two people rising from the western-styled couch snagged her attention— with recognition not on its heels.

“Prince Shigure!”

“Ah, h-hello.” He bowed with a smile, bright eyes flickering between them. “Father, is this the woman we discussed?”

 _Father?_ Before Hinoka could do more than furrow her brow, Marx answered, “Yes, this Hinoka of Hoshido’s royal house Byakuya, Queen of Hoshido.” He glanced at her speculatively, then gestured to the two in turn. “It appears you’ve already met Shigure of Royal House Anya, Fourth Prince of Nohr. Queen Hinoka, this is Siegbert of Royal House Anya, Third Prince of Nohr.”

The other young man, who stood nearly as tall as Marx though had a gangly quality that indicated he wasn’t finished growing, gave his own graceful bow. “Well met, Your Majesty, it is an honor.”

Siegbert resembled Marx though not in a starkly obvious way, his features softer like water's rippling surface reflecting blurred shapes. Yet the color of his dark eyes unmistakably belonged to Marx. Despite being neatly combed, his hair was unfortunately styled— a short fringe on his high forehead while the strands on the back of his head and at his neck were long enough to form a mop of curls. Its color was a blue so pale it was almost washed out into gray.

Foreign in features, yet familiar in coloring. Her stomach grew tight and hard, and Hinoka had to swallow against her sudden case of nerves. Catching Marx’s eyes, she asked, “Where’re Aqua’s sons?”

“They stand before you.” He didn’t blink.

Disbelieving laughter burst out of her. “They can’t be! These are your brothers, Garon and Shenmei’s children-”

“Pardon, but that’s incorrect.” Shigure still smiled, though there was a new tension around his eyes. “Despite the current gossip, Queen Shenmei only ever had one child. Our mother, Aqua.”

Siegbert nodded, expression more openly troubled. “Father is an honorable man, he would not lie about this. Although we understand why you’d doubt.”

The three of them were staring at her, the younger two entreating, as if they weren’t giving her a bold-faced lie. Hinoka hardened her own gaze, turned to Marx, and rebutted, “The war began only a year and a half ago, and it’s afterwards you said you wed Aqua. How can these grown men be your sons?”

“Magic.”

 _Dark magic._ Hinoka felt her eyes go wide, her entire body tensing. The court diviners and priests had warned that Nohrian mages practiced unnatural arts. Yet she’d never have thought they were heartless enough to cast such spells on their own children.

The distress must’ve shown on her face, as Siegbert abruptly said, “Father, that’s a bit simplistic. What happened wasn’t intentional.”

The image of an arcane experiment gone wrong flashed through Hinoka’s mind and had her battling down a shudder.

“You’re both being confusing!” Shigure shook his head with a sigh. “Queen Hinoka, please understand that we’re claiming the impossible. But is magic not that which bends the rules of reality? Our dragon blood gives us small powers of creation that no other mortal has, and this divine power could be called magic.”

Ignoring the tense knot that’d replaced her stomach, Hinoka gave into the urge to gnaw her lip and forced herself to look hard and long at the three of them. With how Shigure stood side by side with Siegbert, it was impossible to miss the resemblances they echoed in each other— the likeness to the man who stood beside her and to even the woman who’d gone missing.

Biting back a frown, she thought hard and chose her words carefully. “Say I believe you. That Aqua’s your mother, Marx your father. That you aged _unintentionally_ by some sort of Nohrian dark magic-”

“No, it’s… Mmm, stranger than that.” Marx interrupted, brow furrowed with what might’ve been contemplation. “With the aid of another dragon Corrin was able to travel beyond this world, he had the army sometimes stay in such places during the war for safety. Although there was danger, time there flowed at a different pace. My sons were born and grew up in such places… they aged too quickly because of it. I should’ve foreseen trouble.”

His last words spurred a reaction from the young men, both beginning to argue an absence of guilt and knowledge, but she didn’t listen. Instead discordant thoughts filled her senses, _Unintentional Magic. World traveling dragons. Time out of place._ Hinoka’s logic wanted to denounce it all as lunacy, yet the more frightened corner of her mind couldn’t forget how the city square shattered and her brother became a god made flesh. Impossible things, but real memories. The tension in her body now began gathering in her head as Hinoka battled to grasp the truth.

A sudden knock at the door behind them brought her attention back to her current surroundings, once again her head ached and she felt tired. Marx opened the door to reveal servants pushing an odd, wheeled contraption laden with trays. At the sight of it, Siegbert said, “I’d ordered refreshments, I hope that’s alright?”

Although her stomach felt too tight for an appetite, the promise of a hot drink appealed. So Hinoka put on a smile. “That's thoughtful, thank you.” The faint color of a blush rose in his face at the praise, a happy smile overcoming his expression. Hinoka marveled, _Compared to Marx he’s an open book._

“Would you like to sit down, Queen Hinoka?”

Shigure invited and she accepted, taking a seat on one of the couches. The furniture was not overly large thus could only sit two adults per, the princes sat together while the king was beside her. Although glad to be off her feet although the elevation made it difficult for her to truly relax. It did, however, the servants room enough to lay out the spread they’d brought— tea and delicacies that reminded her of Charlotte’s picnic. Although these foods were mostly confections: molded jellies with bits of minced fruits, tiny nut biscuits, and a cold soup she was told that had a rosehip base. Sakura might’ve achieved Nirvana partaking in so many desserts in one sitting.

After the servants had left with the trays, for a blessed moment they all kept their peace in order to partake. Although the Nohrain tea continued to be black and astringent, the heat of it did help sooth her headache. For politeness sake she tried the soup, and though strangely floral the taste was subtly sweet thus unobjectionable. However, her stomach was too tense to truly eat and set it aside after a couple spoonfuls, which prompted the others into doing the same for manner’s sake.

After looking each man in the eye, Hinoka said, “I understand this all must be kept secret. But who else knows?”

“My confidants and the elite from Corrin’s army.” Marx answered, mouth pressing a tight line before he continued, “Outside of those who traveled with us, everyone believes the new dragon-blooded princes and princesses are all formerly undiscovered bastards of my father. Their physical ages make it impossible to convince most otherwise.”

 _Because the very concept is madness!_ Hinoka kept herself from groaning aloud. “There’s more full-grown children?”

“You’ve met a couple at Uncle Leo’s wedding, my cousins Foleo and Soleil. Apologies again for her behavior, Ophelia and I witnessed it from down the row.” Siegbert answered, expression openly contrite.

Hinoka frowned but didn’t comment more on the incident, although the abrupt, sharp glance Marx sent the young man suggested he might not have been aware.

“Ah, Queen Hinoka, we would be happy to answer any other questions, but….” Shigure quieted as all eyes turned to him, before continuing with a soft and somewhat bashful tone. “We were hoping you’d be willing to tell us some stories about our mother, from your childhood.”

He looked to her with an pleading gaze, familiar eyes with an expression Hinoka had never witnessed on Aqua’s face. Even before this meeting, she’d thought he’d resembled her— but she hadn’t known how right she was. Part of this journey to Nohr had been to find Aqua’s children, but now she was at a loss of what to do with this supposed truth. She pushed such thoughts aside and tried to reorient herself.

“I suppose none of you would know what happened during her time in Shirasagi.” _There’s no one left to tell but me._ Ignoring the pang in her heart and building headache, Hinoka took a deep breath and then began the tale. “A few months after Aqua arrived, I remember rumors circulating about the castle about a ghost dressed in white roaming the halls at night…”

.xxx.

They talked for hours, sometimes asking and answering questions, but mostly sharing memories about Aqua. It went on long enough that they’d taken the midday meal in that little room. In the end, Shigure and Siegbert’s genuine affections for Aqua, and even Marx, convinced Hinoka that they truly believed what they’d told her. If it was a lie, it was an elaborate one. Finally, when her throat had tired from talking she’d asked for a break to freshen up and Marx had adjourned the meeting.

Hinoka had returned to the guest room and had hardly dried off from a bath and begun to get dressed when her handmaid delivered shocking news.

“My liege, it has come to our attention that Prince Corrin is preparing to depart this castle.”

“Kamui’s leaving?” _Three days and we haven’t even gotten a chance to talk!_

Miyokichi nodded, mouth faintly down-turned. “Yes, he’ll be traveling alongside the Crown Prince’s entourage. If you wish to speak to him, I’m afraid it must be now.”

With her help Hinoka swiftly donned a set of formal robes and forewent the midday meal to instead seek out her errant brother. Although she had journeyed to Nohr knowing full well its king and the wedding would require her attention, she’d also hoped for a moment with Kamui. That he would simply leave without warning shook Hinoka, hastened her footsteps.

It took a long moment of hard glares and insisting to pass the guards and enter the castle wing that housed royalty. Yet once past them there weren’t any guards visible far in, which had her wondering if the west had its own version of servant that watched from the shadows. This had her on edge by the time someone did come into view— tall, lanky, with an eyepatch over his left eye.

Kamui’s husband leaned against the wall beside a door, appearing careless aside from the way he watched her with intent. Hinoka didn’t like the way he looked at her, completely lacking deference and too reminiscent of a predator tracking prey. Yet she’d had months to prefect keeping emotions off her face, so kept calm a calm façade as she slowed and approached.

“Your Majesty, wandering alone in search of trouble?” Zero asked with a dip of his head, mouth splitting in a smirk.

Hinoka looked him in the eye. “I want to speak to my brother.”

“Same thing.” At his words she frowned, Zero’s smirk widened. “But if you wait here, trouble’s sure to find you.”

Despite his flippancy she understood he meant Kamui would eventually join him out here, so moved to the opposite side of the hall to wait. The distance seemed to amuse the Nohrian as he bothered to stand up straight, even taking a step towards her as he asked, “How come it’s only you here, Queen Hinoka? It so disappointed Corrin to hear his sweet, shy little sister wasn’t with you.”

 _How dare he._ Hinoka’s jaw clenched, before she answered, “She is supervising the reconstruction and was unable to leave her duties as High Princess.”

“All work and no play in Hoshido then. Has Nohr entertained, Your Majesty?”

The look he sent her, long and lingering, made Hinoka’s temper rise. She’d extended this man only kindness in Hoshido, but he apparently couldn’t bother for the same courtesy. Her headache from earlier returned and her blood grew hot. Openly glaring at him, Hinoka demanded, “Did you bind Princess Sakura in ropes?”

“Not lately.” Zero’s smirk remained.

“I mean last year at Fort Jinya.” He nodded and red, hot anger stabbed through her. “How could you treat her with such disrespect!”

His smirk finally faded. “Those ropes and I treated her fine, saved your sister’s life even. If she hadn’t already been trussed up and captured, Royal Adviser Iago would’ve used it as an excuse to execute an enemy leader.”

She scoffed, “A flimsy restraint stopped him?”

“Hard to say a disarmed, restrained prisoner is a threat.” He shrugged, the thoughtless motion belying the sudden sharpness in his gaze. “Really, Corrin and King Marx are the reason any of your people got out of there alive.”

“To do otherwise is dishonorable,” she said through grit teeth.

“Considering how _honorable_ Hoshidans all kicked in our doors the season before, destroying ports and taking no prisoners, I’d say Corrin’s soft touch was unwarranted.” The amusement had vanished from Zero’s expression, and his deep voice pitched low in a manner that set her on edge. “Best not forget you owe your life to Nohr, lil’ queen.”

The silence that descended upon the hallway was wintry, dark and chilling. His stance had changed to an unspoken threat, and Hinoka had shifted her weight onto the balls of her feet in anticipation. A noise broke the tension— scuffling and then the turning of the door handle.

“Alright, Zero, I think this should be the last of it-” Corrin called out, arms full of an oversize pack and using his back to wedge open the door. When he turned around red eyes blinked owlishly, taking in their impromptu standoff in the hallway. “Oh, u-um, big sister Hinoka, hello! I didn’t expect to see you here.”

She was taken aback by her brother’s appearance. He wore a long black cloak, embroidered with silver thread. It swept behind him, heavy yet rippling like water. The rest of his clothing were cut from eggshell-white cloth, the same color as his hair. The only color apart from his eyes was a dark blue sash across the chest of his tunic. Kamui looked entirely like Nohrian royalty.

Going flat-footed Hinoka regathered her composure, ignoring Zero, she asked, “Prince Corrin, can we talk?”

He blinked, then broke into a bright grin. “Of course! Here, Zero, take this. I’ll be there soon.”

Zero glanced at her before dipping to catch Kamui in a kiss, one blatant in its claim of possession. Then he took the pack from his arms and strut down the hall. A blush covered her brother’s face, and he cleared his throat before facing her with a more sheepish grin.

Taking a deep breath, she tamped down her temper before she said, “I hadn’t realized you’d be leaving so soon.” _Without coming to see me._

“Yeah, sorry. I know you just got here, and things have been really busy.” Kamui made a broad gesture, as if the entire castle had kept him from her. “Cheiftan Kilma asked that both me and Felicia come with Leo and Flora for the official visit. The people of the Ice Clan’re still uncertain how to feel about changing from a tributary to an official territory of Nohr. Since they sorta trust me, it’s important that I go and keep everybody happy.”

 _What of my happiness?_ “I see. It’s very princely of you.”

Kamui scratched the back of his head, ruffling the longer strands of his pale hair. “Eh heh, well, I’m just happy to help big brother Marx and brother Leo out. They’ve been working so hard trying to make things better.” He dropped his hand and seemed to gather himself up as he said, “Speaking of, I need to ask something. Does Hoshido have, I mean, are there a lot of orphans?”

“…yes. Many families were broken by the war, the most unfortunate being young children left with no one.”

They’d been one of the neediest survivor groups, orphaned children. Temples and monasteries had always been open to taking in such young charges, but the sheer number the war had left behind had created logistical problems. Asama had actually made several suggestions and she’d appointed him head of the short-term project for the housing and feeding of refugees in general. They were still working on something long-term, yet she was confident no one would go hungry or freeze this winter.

“Then I’ve got a solution!” Kamui was grinning again. “Zero and I’ve talked a lot about it, how both kingdoms have kids who need help. Once everything’s more settled we’re going to start a bunch of orphanages, so you can send them all to us.”

Hinoka’s stomach dropped. “…here in Windmire?”

“Of course, where else?” The honest confusion in his eyes had her fighting back a hysterical laugh.

“You want me to uproot young children from their homeland and send them half a world away?” Her headache pounded in her temples, pressed against the back of her eyes. “Really?”

“Hinoka, you just said those kids have no one. I promise we’d take good care-”

“Like how Royal House Anya took _good care_ of you, Kamui?”

“No, that’s not the same!” His expression crumpled with genuine upset, but his words caused bitter feelings to seep through her like a lanced boil.

“Sumeragi's your father. You’re supposed to be a prince of Hoshido. You should live in Shirasagi with us, but now you...” The volume of Hinoka’s voice grew alongside her inner turmoil. “The Nohrian prince wishes to take more Hoshidan children away? Just as Garon stole you?!" _How can he even think this would be alright._

"No, Hinoka, you don't understand-"

She really should've tried to calm down and think rationally, but already having given up so much Hinoka found that she couldn't surrender one more thing. The pain in her head and tightness in her chest caused Hinoka’s words to burst out, overflowing with all the feelings she’d been stifling since the war had ended. “Don't tell me what I know! How can you ask this of me? So many of my people are gone, taken by Nohrian blades at the command of their _princes_.”

Kamui visibly flinched, his face morphing with regret, and more damningly, pity. Under that look the mire of her emotions abruptly ignited into deep anger. _How dare he pity me. Kamui did this to me, to Hoshido. It’s his fault! I won’t let him pity me. I’ll_ —

**_destroy him_ **

—it’d be easy. Kamui stood close enough with his defenses down, one strike would be all she needed. Yet he stood open like that because he trusted her, trusted the sister he’d grown up not knowing. She couldn’t betray—

**_he killed your mother_ **  
**_he killed your brothers_ **  
**_he’ll kill you_ **  
**_DESTROY HIM_ **

—crystal clear images flashed against her closed eyelids. The axe taking up her vision as it grazed her neck, the river evaporating as black-armored soldiers spilled into its place, white alabaster shattered amidst the dust and meaty chunks that had been people, the faces of her brothers bloodless and still. All the terrible nightmare-inducing moments that’d torn her life asunder. Hinoka’s resistance crumpled against the command, heart faltering as the chasm ripped wide open.

Anger flared bright and hot in her chest, blinding as the sun. All the shock, fear, and anger from what felt like her entire life suddenly flooded through her. She burned with a panicked rage that was all-consuming.

Numb hands reached between the folds of her robe, Hinoka drew out the sheathed weapon hidden against her breast. She carried the dagger to preserve her own honor, but now bared its blade to end this threat to Hoshido once and for all. A flash of heat shot through her as the man stumbled back with a shocked cry, one pale hand covering the cut on his cheek that a flick of her dagger had dealt him. The tight skirt of the robe was impeding her movement, so Hinoka slashed open the fabric.

In a splash of magic and light, the human form was subsumed by a draconic one— long in limb and huge in size. Yet Hinoka felt no fear over the branched antlers and serrated tail, instead the need to destroy such a treacherous creature steeled her. With the force of her rage she struck, but the dagger deflected off hard scales. Rather than shying away, the dragon approached her on its wrongly jointed legs.

A distorted voice said, “Please, sister, calm down. I don’t want to hurt you!”

Unmoved by the plea, Hinoka darted forward and stabbed at its underbelly. Her body moved to kill him, no motion wasted, and could not help herself. The blade struck true and the dragon reared up with a pained bellow. However, before she could get back one of the long forelimbs sent her crashing down and knocked the breath from her. The dagger clattered out of reach, then its large clawed hands caged her chest and pinned her to the ground. But she didn’t cower, she didn’t submit, instead screaming her outrage with each breath she regained. Hinoka kicked her feet and twisted her body in attempts to dislodge the creature’s hold on her.

She made such a commotion that the sounds of doors opening and rushed footsteps were almost inaudible.

“Uncle Corrin, what’s going on?”

“No, boys, stay back!” The distorted voice boomed from above.

The volume of it hurt her ears, but her hands were occupied in attempting to pry even a single claw off of herself. It pressed her painfully against the stone, yet she _couldn’t_ stay still. Not even her tongue, her voice, had to vent the outrage churning inside her. Hinoka had never felt so alien within her own skin, so ready to split apart at the seams.

“One’s thoughts, swaying and being swayed…” That cursedly beautiful voice arose, and drowned Hinoka’s senses.

The song hit her like ice water, sinking through her flesh and to her bones, smothering the fire in her blood and shocking her still. Between one heartbeat and the next she went from blood-boiling rage to not even a simmer of discontent. With the razor-edged anger gone, Hinoka felt empty enough that she was light-headed. Thoughts still buzzed through her mind, spotting the potential threats around her yet all sense of urgency had vanished. That need to fight, even with a subpar weapon, was gone. The haze enveloping her mind scattered into panic, and then even that faded away.

Her entire body was shaking with this suddenly forced calm. The heat of anger had vanished and she felt frozen in its absence. Hinoka’s struggle against the pressure on her chest ceased, and the full weight of it made her breaths shallower and shallower. Part of her knew she should fight, try to breathe, but it couldn’t rouse her body into acting. So she laid still beneath that heavy claw until the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought any normal person would find the concept of the Deeprealms ridiculous. Considering Garon's reputation, it'd be much more logical to just assume he'd sewed more than a few wild oats, or like with Corrin, had hidden away more children. Siegbert and Shiro being as old as they are also nullifies their usefulness as generation heirs, considering they likely only have a handful of years separation from their father's ages, IE ain't gonna be able to reign for long.
> 
> The soup described in this chapter is Nyponsoppa (rose hip soup) it's a sweet soup made with rose hips, potato flour, and sugar, often served as a dessert with milk, cream or vanilla ice cream.
> 
> Shigure’s song line was taken from [the fan-translated lyrics of the Japanese script.](http://damoselcastel.tumblr.com/post/139335377651/azuraaquas-song-lyrics)  
> I’ve always found the effects Aqua’s singing can produce to be creepy. Particularly that one scene in Revelation where she takes away people’s ability to fight, that’s basically stealing someone’s willpower and agency... a lot like possession.
> 
> The chapter title is taken from [poem 620 by Emily Dickinson](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/51612/much-madness-is-divinest-sense-620).


	11. Half Dipt in Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hinoka is offered an unexpected source of comfort, one that has her at odds with herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 11 warnings: nightmares, patriarchal attitudes, blood, body horror, mentioned character death, confusion and misunderstanding, PSTD flashbacks, anxiety and panic, discussion of forgiveness, thoughts of guilt and blame, thoughts of death, gossip, internal emotional conflict, self-shaming.

.xxxi.

Hinoka wanted to go to Cheve with her brothers. She begged her father, had even cried, but princesses needed to stay safe at home, that’s what he had told her. The fact that little Kamui got to go and she couldn’t, wasn’t fair at all.

“Ryouma, let me go with you!” Hinoka held his hands in hers, the skin warm and soft.

“No.” Her brother murmured, his boyhood voice high and sweet. “You can’t come with me.”

She’d thrown a fit when they’d left, refused to say goodbye or bid well-wishes, and pouted the weeks they’d been away. Then one day Ryouma had returned— Sumeragi and Kamui never did. She’d cried for entirely different reasons then, for years and years and years. When Takumi and Ryouma made to leave for the battlefield, she begged again.

“I want to go.” She squeezed his hands, suddenly big and calloused. “Take me with you.”

“No.” Her brother sighed, his adult voice low and sorrowful. “You can’t come with me.”

Though no longer a child, and no longer weak, Hinoka was still a princess and had to obey. She did not stray far, though her brothers went deep behind enemy lines only to return, beaten and hopeless. An army followed close behind them, breaking down defenses, until even home was no longer safe.

“Don’t go, Ryouma.” Hinoka’s hands shook, his were cold and slippery with blood. “Don’t leave me behind!”

“You can’t come with me.” Her brother said, death rattled in his every breath. “You must stay.”

He pulled away and she didn’t feel it. Looking down, Hinoka found that her hands had turned to ice which shattered when she reached out for Ryouma’s vanishing figure. She opened her mouth to scream and couldn’t breathe—

Hinoka woke from the nightmare with a gasp. As she gulped down air the state of the rest of her body filtered into her awareness. Her ribs twinged and ached with each deep breath she took, tender in the way only bruised bones could be. Her head hurt, but not in that sharp, throbbing pain that'd plagued her so often since journeying to Nohr. Instead it was a dull pain, one that slowed her thoughts to a crawl and made her head feel like it was stuffed full of cotton. Her skin tingled, strangely oversensitive on what felt like the inside. Even as she shakily attempted to move leaden limbs, there was a soft caress that started at her temple then carded through the stands of her hair and was repeated.

Although the motion was soothing, it had Hinoka marshalling her muddled senses in order to take stock of her situation. Her bodily position was curled, three sides of her rested on solid warmth. The air was the stale sort common in Krackenbrug castle, but there was another scent— armor oil, horse, and faint earthy musk. There was a low sound, its pattern had her recognizing it was a song. Opening her heavy eyelids by a sliver, she looked through her lashes. The molding patterns on the roof tiles were unfamiliar to her, and the room itself seemed lowly lit by a strangely green illumination.

Glancing about, she couldn’t help going tense as she realized that it wasn’t bedding that she reclined against but _someone_. There was an arm curled behind her shoulders, and another tucked into the bend of her knees. This hold leaned her entire side against a broad span of male chest, she felt its firm contours beneath the thin linen shirt, and the muscles of his arms bunched visibly against her weight. The bend of her torso and bottom half were likely stabilized across this man’s lap, which had Hinoka grateful that she’d not possessed the coordination to squirm.

The fingers stroking her face fell away and the singing under his breath ceased, then in the quiet a deep voice resounded. “Hinoka?”

She shut her eyes and forced herself not to tense further. It was Marx, the person cradling her so intimately was Marx. Being in such close proximity to Hoshido's enemy should've evoked strong aversion, disgust, or panic— yet Hinoka felt only a sort of numb, factual recognition. After all, Marx had held her this close once before, against his chest with an arm wrapped around her. Embarrassment wriggled within her breast as Hinoka’s hazy mind recalled at the time she’d been wearing his cape, and only that.

Yet that didn’t explain her current circumstances. Fighting a sluggish mind, Hinoka searched through her memories for how she’d landed in this situation and drew a blank— the last thing she could recall was encountering Zero during her search for Kamui. Giving into a sigh, she pried her eyes open enough to look up at the Nohrian king’s face.

He looked more alien than usual in the strange lighting, but he also appeared tired. There was a heaviness around his eyes, a tightness in his jaw, that spoke of a lack of energy. Hinoka was both concerned and proud of the fact she had learned recognize the differences between his facial expressions. However, his eyes weren’t dark but shining like stars, and the way he watched her might’ve been with concern.

Despite having many questions, it was a stray thought that slipped off her tongue, “…you were singing.”

Marx blinked, then cleared his throat. “Mmm, yes. It’s a habit Aqua suggested, to keep myself calm.”

Hinoka managed a half-nod, vaguely wondering why he wouldn’t be calm to begin with. After a moment she asked, “Where am I?”

“The king’s private chambers.” Before Hinoka could do more than widen her eyes, he continued, “This room contains a Dragon’s Vein, which we’re currently resting upon. Foleo tried to use a healing staff on you, but it seemed to only make things worse. So I thought to try this.”

At his words, Hinoka realized that was why her body tingled, both from the healing energy and in response to the divine power so close at hand. And the strange green illumination was from the glowing lines that surrounded them— a regeneration circle powered by the Dragon’s Vein. Unlike moving stone or conjuring fire, such a thing was complicated to create because of the delicate control required. She’d never had quite the patience to master them, unlike Sakura…and it seemed Marx’s self-control extended to even this.

“Why did I need h-healing?” She couldn’t quite hide the tremor of fear from her voice.

“You don’t remember?”

Hinoka felt her eyes stinging as she shook her head. Marx gave a long exhale, then said, “Apparently there was an incident with Corrin transforming, but… he refuses to tell me much about it. My sons were just as unforthcoming.”

Transformation, that inhuman form. Suddenly she was thrown back, to the disaster in Shirasagi’s city square— the shattered stone and flesh, and horrible roar rending through the screams of the fleeing crowds. There’d been attackers, Nohrian troops, she’d had to use a curtain pole to fend a group off from civilians. She hadn’t seen it until the standoff at the river’s bend, her brother turning into a dragon, into a monster.

_Kamui attacked me._

Hinoka pushed away from Marx and tried to sit up; the world tilted alarmingly, as if in an effort to throw her off. Marx caught her before she could collapse and she let herself settle against him, shutting her eyes with a groan. Like this, she became aware of all the sensations she’d awoken to— his warmth, his smell, how gently he touched her —alongside all the aches and pains of her still-recovering body. She was breathing hard, and turned her face into his chest to hide shameful tears brimming her eyes.

“Rest here until you feel better.” Marx said, and then began to hum a foreign lullaby.

.xxxii.

Once Hinoka felt well enough that she could stand on her own two feet, the healing circle was deactivated. They then moved from the bedroom to another room that held a large desk and sitting couches. Perched on one was a small figure swathed in sheer robes, her veiled face framed by a bob of dark hair turned towards them and Hinoka was struck with recognition.

Words slipped off her tongue, “You cut your hair.”

“And you’re growing yours out.” The small woman cut a look as if Hinoka was simple-minded.

Marx chuckled, and then gestured. “Queen Hinoka, this is Sorceress Nyx, my Adviser of Magics. I summoned her to check for harmful hexes. May she inspect you?”

Still fighting a blush over her wayward observation, Hinoka simply nodded. Marx stepped away as the Nohrian sorceress rose to her feet and approached. Her hands traced glowing ruins from the page of an open tome and she began to chant in some unknown language. Hinoka made sure to stand her ground, even when doubt seeded wariness of trickery, of dark magic. Rather than giving over to paranoia, she closed her eyes and to clear her thoughts silently catalogued any lingering pains and small aches in her body.

The sound of a book shutting followed by quiet, drew Hinoka back and she opened her eyes to the sight of Adviser Nyx rubbing at her temples.

“What’d you find?” Asked Marx.

“I detected three magical signatures. Firstly, her own, the dragon’s blood flowing in her veins. The second magical source put her out like a light but seems faint, likely only encountered recently. It’s a very peculiar sort which I’d have to research more before giving any specifics.” The small woman’s hand fell from her face, her expression grim. “The third has clung to her much longer and it’s very malignant. I’m guessing this is what actually began the trouble.”

‘Trouble’ as in Kamui attacking her, a claim she still couldn’t quite believe.

“A hex?” Marx asked, stepping up beside her.

Adviser Nyx shook her head. “Nothing so simple.”

“Can you fully remove it, Nyx?”

“I’m flattered you so overestimate my abilities.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Hinoka spoke up, “Then… how can it be prevented?”

Adviser Nyx’s expression shifted, for a moment it was almost pitying. Yet her tone of voice remained sharp as she said, “It feeds on negative energy, so try to stay in good spirits.”

Hinoka did her best to nod, yet couldn’t hide how disquieted those words left her. A curse based on ill-spirits… how could one avoid it? Life had been more difficulties than happiness of late, and no matter how she forced a smile onto her face it couldn’t change her heart. She tried to think of times it might’ve afflicted her before, but most days felt like a blur and no memories seemed especially off. _What have I been doing that’s accursed?_

Marx’s voice pulled her before she could become truly lost in her thoughts as he said, “Nyx, please research the matter further. You have my permission to use whatever means necessary.”

“Very well. I’ll investigate methods that might to help ward it off.” The small woman heaved out a long breath, then gave a shrewd glance. “In all honestly, King Marx, wouldn’t it be simpler to leave Hoshido to its fate rather than expending Nohr’s resources to prop up a collapsing house of cards?”

Hinoka went tense, and even Marx had gone still. He voice was stern as he said, “That is uncharitable of you, Nyx. Our allies are sharing their resources in turn thus are not a drain. And I must right my father’s wrongs.”

She choked down a gasp at his audacity. _As if he can fix anything!_

“Bad blood is not so easily forgiven. The other kingdom growing weak would give ours time to fortify against the inevitable counterattack. I doubt this Hoshido’s Queen has soft feelings towards you or any Nohrian.” Adviser Nyx pointedly looked at her, and Hinoka had to smother the anger that’d built alongside the many insults. “Ah, I’m upsetting her. I refuse to bend truths for convenience's sake, so will take my leave.” She then turned her back on them both and headed to the doorway.

Despite the blatant disrespect Marx didn’t seem upset as he ordered, “Nyx, please inform relevant parties that Hinoka is recovered.”

“I’ll let your family know, but your personal retainer will have to talk to the Hoshidans,” the small woman snippily rebutted, before abruptly closing the door behind her.

Hinoka’s body felt as taunt as a bowstring, and she had to clasp her hands together to hide their shaking. The anger that’d so quickly built was doused by a mix of anxiety and some other emotion that tensed her muscles. Gathering her nerve, she looked the Nohrian King in the eye. “T-that’s really what you want from me? Forgiveness?”

Marx tilted his head, not quite a nod or a bow but acknowledgement, without breaking their gaze. His voice was quiet, soft in his way, as he said, “Mere words cannot bring back those lost. My people, and I, have wronged you. I wish to try and make things right between us and our kingdoms.”

Reconciliation, it wouldn’t be the first attempt. Her father had hoped for such, that an accord could be forged between Hoshido and Nohr. It’s why Sumeragi had gone to Cheve, it’s why he’d died— for a thwarted chance at peace. Killed at the hands of King Garon, this man’s father. Then Kamui had been stolen, converted to Nohr's cause, that was the fracture that’d ultimately broken her family and happiness. _There’s too much to make right._

Hinoka felt a dull hopelessness in that moment that had her laughing emptily. “Your Adviser wasn’t entirely wrong. On your last visit to Hoshido one of my lords had his men hiding along the roads in hopes of waylaying you.” Marx appeared to tense, his expression becoming severe, but Hinoka heedlessly continued, “I forbade it, but he’s not the only one who wants vengeance. And he won’t be the last. Even if your death wouldn’t truly erase my people’s anger.”

“Is that why you attacked Corrin? To get even?”

Her mind momentarily halted at the accusation, unable to comprehend the idea of attacking, _hurting_ her last surviving brother. Utter nonsense! Yet was that what he’d meant, not that Kamui had attacked her but the opposite? She also couldn’t deny her memory had been poor of late, this latest blank of what’d actually happened had her more worried than she cared to admit.

So she shook her head, and snapped, “I’ve not raised a hand to a Nohrian since the treaty was signed! Because if I do something to displease you, if Hoshido makes one wrong move- Nohr would end us.” _And we couldn’t stop you._

Marx’s brow furrowed. “You fear I will take advantage.”

“Haven’t you already?” She couldn’t hold the cynicism out of her voice. “Will saying ‘I forgive you’ do, or would you prefer it in writing?”

Leaning over her, Marx frowned and he raised a hand towards her only to abruptly stop mid-reach. Refusing to let him back down, Hinoka’s own hands grabbed his wrist and pulled until his fingers rested over her neck, the span of his hand was disconcertingly large enough to wrap around. She hadn’t broken eye-contact, instead poured every ounce of challenge into her glare. “The forgiveness I’d give you would be false. So why leave such a threat? End it.”

He wore no gloves, so had to feel the quick kick of her pulse under his bare hand and the increasing speed of her breaths. Truthfully, Hinoka was afraid. Everything he’d told her, even if it was all lies, the word of Nohr’s king would not be ignored. Marx could kill her, and no one in this kingdom would object. The threat of war wouldn’t stop him, if anything the western army would celebrate at another chance for glory. So better that she die now— keep her pride and go defiantly, than to cower.

“Do you truly think so poorly of me?” His eyes, dark as the night sky, stared into her own with that intensity that never seemed to dim. She was wound too tight to flinch when his hand on her neck slid up to cup her jaw. Marx leaned in, head bent close enough that their lips brushed when he said, “Hinoka, don’t throw away your life.”

He closed the distance and pressed his mouth to hers in a feather-light kiss.

Marx’s lips were warm and soft against hers, the sensation sparking her entire jittery body. Hinoka should’ve pushed him away, reinforced this newly crossed boundary with harsh rejection, but the rush of relief was dizzying and her heart raced without fear or anger. It’d been _so long_ since someone had touched her kindly and she’d felt something good. So instead her numb hands curled into the well-worn linen of his shirt and pulled Marx closer. In response, his hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck, thumb stroked her nape as his fingers tangling in her hair. The kiss went from fleeting to his lips pressed against hers with a yielding firmness that made her exhale in shaky sighs.

It seemed like he was going to lean away to say something, but she stood on her tiptoes to chase and he uttered a soft sound then kissed her again. Marx tasted her gently, savored her— kindled a low ache that had Hinoka trembling with how she craved more. A desperate noise escaped her when he pulled back and broke the kiss, her body felt feverish and thoughts were slow as if drenched in honey. Only belatedly did she realize the door to the room had opened.

“King Marx, is Queen Hinoka free to speak? I was told she’s with you-” Charlotte’s eyes went wide, taking in their inappropriately close proximity. The Princess Consort hadn’t long to gawk, however, as the door was flung fully open and a blur of black, white, and silver came barreling in.

“Sister, you’re awake!” Hinoka barely had enough time to turn and brace as her brother threw himself at her, his weight pressing her back against Marx’s solid form. After colliding he babbled, “I didn’t mean- I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Kamui’s arms wrapped around if she might try to escape. The tight hold squeezing her tender ribs, Hinoka bit her lip to keep quiet. He kept apologizing over and over, even as he dissolved into hiccupping sobs. She’d never seen him so wracked with grief, almost out-of-control. Something about it, the wildness— her chest suddenly felt tight and the urge to flee hit hard.

It was ultimately Marx’s large hands that gripped Kamui by the shoulders and made him give them some breathing space. “Corrin, she is alright. Calm yourself.”

“Y-yes,” Her brother rubbed at his eyes and nodded, stepping back. “Sorry.”

To keep herself from bolting Hinoka breathed deep and measured, grounding herself with the twinges of discomfort. Yet she couldn’t hold back a flinch when she was touched. Large hands were warm on her elbow and the small of her back. Turning her head, she met Marx’s eyes, saw that his gaze was questioning, and tried to say something but the words tangled on her tongue.

That seemed to be enough of an answer. “Queen Hinoka, I must speak with our brother, alone. Princess Consort Charlotte, please if you could entertain Her Majesty for the rest of tonight.”

.xxxiii.

The sky was the prettiest Hinoka had seen it in Nohr. The moon was full, its round shape peeking through the scattered breaks in the cloud-cover. Clouds piled in soft billows, highlighted in silver by the moon's glow and weighted with dusky shadows. Beneath the sky was equally enthralling. Enough anima lanterns lined the road that their orange glow rivaled the hidden stars. The nighttime streets of Windmire were as full and bustling as Shirasagi at high noon, however, those masses parted hastily for the horse-drawn carriage they traveled within. All this was easily seen through its glass windows, large and clear portals compared the latticed sort palanquins sported.

The carriage itself wasn’t large, her retainers had to ride with the driver and footman outside. Its velvet-lined interior had only enough room two comfortably and Charlotte’s full-skirted gown made it feel like three took up the cushioned bench. The satiny billows rippled with every bounce on the road and brushed against the side of Hinoka’s leg exposed by the torn split in her robe. The fact that Hinoka had allowed herself to be dragged out in public with damaged clothing attested to how out-of-sorts she’d been when the Princess Consort had hustled them from Castle Krackenburg and to this carriage.

She didn’t remember how her clothing had become damaged, though acknowledged it had to have happened after she’d gone to visit Kamui and before she’d reawakened. If she thought to hard, recalled what’d happened with Marx— conflicting emotions welled up in a murky mess. So Hinoka kept seeking out the distractions on hand, forcing her troubled mind into order.

Almost as if sensing her thoughts, Charlotte broke the silence and glibly said, “After a year alone, figures such a man would move on. Shouldn’t be surprised, you’re just his type.”

At her words a deep-seated anxiety washed over Hinoka, and had her stuttering, “P-pardon, his type?”

“Thin as a whip with a tongue just as sharp, belied by a pretty face.” Blue eyes looked over her in a way that had Hinoka self-conscious of all the differences between them: features, height, build, and size of breast. “And you can hold your own in a fight. His Majesty has a taste for difficult things.”

The way Charlotte spoke plainly, as if assuredly quoting fact, as if she’d witnessed the indiscretion firsthand rather than its immediate aftermath. Hinoka’s efforts not to think on the kiss— warm in his arms, gently caressed by his hands, his lips soft on hers —fell to pieces and the unwanted feelings that began flooding over her.

Marx had kissed her, and Hinoka had liked it. Why had she _liked it?_ How could he dare touch Hoshido's queen like a lover would?

Desperate to rein in her spiraling thoughts, she asked, “You’d call Princess Aqua ‘difficult’?”

“It’s the truth! A frustrating woman, who was cryptic to talk and kept everyone at an arm’s length.” Charlotte’s entire face scowled with derision. “Any sane person in Nohr would be King Marx’s for the asking, for the gods’ sake I’d tried to catch his eye! But only a truly stubborn man would pursue Lady Aqua’s distant hand.”

“And now you think he’ll seek mine.”

Charlotte hummed contemplatively. “That’s the difficult part. Would you permit it?”

The mere possibility of it, shook Hinoka to her core. That the man who could crush her kingdom with a word might want to make her his own personal conquest. Would he simply ignore rejection? Could she even afford to try? Wouldn’t her people hate her if she didn’t? _Why’d he kiss me? I can’t, I can’t-_ The meager contents of her stomach threatened to rise up her throat, and desperately Hinoka wished the numbness she’d initially woken with had remained— better than drowning in this emotional whirlpool.

“I-I-I can’t s-say,” she choked out. After a long moment and several measured breathes, Hinoka managed to swallow down the nausea and replied, “Wouldn’t you h-hate me if I did? A foreigner stealing the hand of your king?”

“It’s foolish turn happiness away when it finds you. Life is too short for regrets.” Charlotte replied primly with practiced poise. “Besides better than my brother-in-law miserably pining for the person who abandoned him and his boys.”

Hinoka had to keep herself from gaping at her bluntness. Her confused heart tight as she asked, “You really think Aqua chose to leave?”

Blue eyes rolled immaturely. “Dunno, but she’s not around. You are.”

“I-I didn’t come to Nohr for King Marx!”

“Next time you should.”

 _She really thinks that. That Marx and I should be an item._ Hinoka had to bite her lip against an outburst, hysterical laughter or yelling she wasn’t quite sure which. In no mood to continue the conversation, she turned away from the Princess Consort and resolutely stared out the window. Though her composure had been eroded by both those words and the conflicting emotions that returned like ocean waves. As much as the concept dredged up logical problems and panic, the kiss’ memory was sweet and had her lips still tingling. By all rights she should’ve hated the Nohrian king with every fiber of her being— but it was obvious she did not.

 _Traitor,_ whispered the darkest corner of her mind.

The rest of the carriage ride passed in silence, which Hinoka was grateful for. It gave her the opportunity to reorder her thoughts and stew over her feelings. By the time the carriage rolled to a halt at their destination Hinoka had the inoffensive mask of a smile back in place, determined not to show any more weakness that night.

As the footman assisted them down from the step, Charlotte chattered, “Now, Queen Hinoka, in this shop is a handsome pair yellow topaz ear-drops. I think their color and the gold wire would complement your eyes.”

Hinoka listened with half an ear, responding when necessary, but desperately keeping the appearance of being together. Though she mustered enough backbone to reject the notion of getting her ears pierced, multiple times, as the Princess Consort insisted to offer. Any other night the shop filled with cases of sparkling jewelry and polished gems might’ve impressed her, but now she found herself only risking a glance— after finding a tourmaline broach to be the same shade of purple as Marx’s eyes. By the time her Nohrian minder had settled on some purchases and they’d left the shop, Hinoka felt weary down to her bones.

Yet as Charlotte passed through the door ahead of them, she noticed the odd behavior of her male retainer. The priest’s brow was furrowed low, fingers tapping on the haft of his spear incessantly. He seemed restless, perhaps upset, enough so that Hinoka stopped and asked, “Asama what’s wrong?”

“It’s the man who gathered Setsuna and myself for this outing. A royal retainer, sworn to serve the king of Nohr. I knew his face,” Asama shook his head, scoffing with disbelief. “He’s that traitor formally of the Saizou clan, Suzukaze.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins, the romance tangled in so very many unresolved issues.


End file.
